SOC Writing _ 2.12.21

When I write without thought or a guiding light - then I am in the trust of my muse - what makes me turn up to pen and paper regularly? It’s to plumb my own depths and listen to what I might be missing - my own self love - which can otherwise be self loathing - In the water I felt home - warm - held - up at sky - cloud wisps - and whispers of missing you - I don’t like these hiatuses of a long way off in a different world from each other - yes, we may get used to them - but I like togetherness and I can see apartness being good for me too. The man came over and we talked, drank beer and watched the sun set - He a boiler maker and an old lineage of farmers - way past his daughter’s bed time he stayed because he needed this company - this place to dive into the thoughts and questions he had not been able to ask or answer for the longest time - a hermit unto himself - a bright and beautiful star shining in the outback of Queensland. The soliday life on the land pricks my attention - I do not wish yet to live alone like Walden - I find myself wanting to be more ok with my loneliness but I can at least feel it as me now. When I want company, I can know that it stems partially from not wanting to ever feel alone - and now I see and gaze into the red wine glass - his joy at being fed all of a sudden from a kitchen of me - my love poured out all of a sudden into plate from pan and steaming tatoes - I love this - this candle lit setting - this fulfillment of simple pleasures - a good new friend made - my heart cries yes! of course yes! my love language sometimes languishing when I can’t find the right person to while away an evening of conversation, wine and the glint of our souls baring each other to the other - this life is beautiful and today I make my choice to be joyful in the face of no longer being a patron at the local cafe - still as alive as ever - human, food, soul, growing steadily.