Wild With Burning

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My stomach center: a fire. Yesterday I was wild with burning. All I wanted was to make contact, even if that meant thrashing and kicking and crying out to the gods. I submerged myself in water. I thrashed and floated. Sun sparkled on the heavy water, fell through the light air and I beneath the air looked up through water, rays of shimmering light, and emerged born once again from the silt and mud, water and air of existence. The whole pond an extension of my vibration—together we breathed in the afternoon, I floated on my back, sang to the clouds, reflected the sky in my eyes. I am a water woman. Here is home.

Today I rise feeling integrated in my body again – my heart has connected to the fire has connected to my head. I live with heat and air. All my frustrations faded. All my insistent will, my fierce absolutes – softened. I do make contact. My shoulders spread across the view, my feet plant themselves. Maybe some day I’ll learn discipline—until then I’ll keep swimming. Today I swam and swam, a tall triangle lengthwise across all of Mirror Lake. My body ached, resisted, gave in to the water with complete acceptance and delight. A dream.

This post is an excerpt from a book I’m working on. This entry was written in September, 2005.

This post is part of the series The Late Summer Garden of Listening and includes the post Tiny Little Pixie Girls and Days I Can Trust and In The Presence of My Love.

Photo from Johan J.Ingles-Le Nobel’s photostream.

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{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Tonio September 23, 2010 at 10:07 pm

water woman wild with burning
no wonder


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