SOC Writing _ 4 November 2020

Wet & Oceanic

The waves were not big this morning, still the small fear of being held by the might of their weight weighed on my mind – why the fear? Why not get under, get held down and be done with it? Because this is your particular fear - This is what it means to be you – you do not have to conquer every fear as it arises – notice it here and be it’s companion -  it is your companion – maybe you will make a shark costume, or a wave costume or have a knife fight in a role play sort of way – your fears have ways of making you pay attention to what is alive in you – the juice of your essence – just penetrating out of you a little bit to say: I am alive. Alive to the noise of next door - fucking builders always loud, loud, loud – like school children but fucking men – boys – Ghrrr. I have to say it because I don’t tell them to their face – they just are and so I let it pass, bide my time to make my own noise for 10 months with no noise police. The anger it bubbles – just a little now and then – my life force – generative – creative – sexed and saved me, made me brave – bravery, bravado, desperado – come to your senses – you don’t need to always be so brave. Shed a tear, hold this small hand and look tenderly from that direct place in your wounded heart. Grieve the immense losses that come with living – the losses of childhood, of dreams, of the success you thought you might have been, but the time has past – the marriage that was not glorious and a beacon to all – and yet the kettle still sings to you, your cooking pots (thanks D.W) are happy to see you – and alone you may be – like the supernova before it blew. A thousand planets created in one final implosion – the world I stand upon, now marvelling at this super - fantastic Mr Fox way of being, upside down, spinning through space with an enormous grin upon my face.