Sweet Desire

sweetdesire

ELO starts singing “Living Thing” and they get to the part about, “… yoooOOO-OO-OOu, and your sweet desiii-III-iiire …” and it made me think of him. I sent a quick love note:

“yooOOOooOOu and your sweet desiiiiIIIIiiire” always makes me think of you thinking of me

you make me feel like my desire is something beautiful

******

I can’t count how many times I have been shamed for my desire. Worse crime–I have a body that society doesn’t deem worthy of desire (from either side of the equation).

I was what my parents called a “willful child” and I tend to eventually question the stones I carry, and sometimes throw them right back. Other times I just carry that shit around without even understanding why. Why does it matter if somebody else thinks my desire is too much of a tsunami of want and emotion? I think it all boils down to that thing I always say: we all want to feel like we matter. Or at least not want to feel like what we’re doing is bad or wrong somehow.

It feels really good to hear a fun little pop song and find meaning in it. Though we shouldn’t let others determine our worth, it sure is validating to remember my desire is worth something to somebody. To know that somebody thinks it’s beautiful and I am worthy of it.

 

 

A River Runs Through Her

riverrunsthroughher

I once wrote a poem about myself as a river. It was convincing, I think. And I felt it. Powerfully.

But.

Maybe it’s smaller, like a brook. A small meandering gentle flowing place to dip my toes and wash my blues away.

Smooth river stones. Winking diamond reflections as the water moseys by.

I feel small. I feel herded, funneled, mined by corporations who only know me by what I buy, watch, listen to.

I just want to float. I want to feel free enough to catch the rays as I float on by all of the glut and greed. I only need enough. Enough love. Enough money. Enough creativity. Just … enough to sustain my spirit and body. Enough to help the people who need it.

I need rest. I haven’t had rest in months. I haven’t had a vacation of any kind in years. I need rest before my spirit gives up. Before my body gives out.

I also need to find out where I dropped my faith and hope. They are stones in the brook, somewhere. I’ll keep looking, before it’s too late.

 

 

She Wanders a Little

wildhair

I told my therapist about my inward energy. “I’m in a downward cycle,” I said. “That’s what I call it.” She already knew. I’m normally big and outwards. I was more pensive, and my responses measured.

“Not like when I was younger. Not downward like that.” Or something like that. And what I mean is, I don’t rock in a dark bathroom hurting myself anymore, like I did when I was in my twenties and didn’t understand what all of these …. feelings? … were. Continue reading