The Self is suddenly explore-able; calmed and opened by trust and transparency. Celebration becomes ever-justified, and a momentum connects the cycle of days. Yet this energy is converted soon enough. Converted into social meanings and applications and ideals. Converted into expectations and yearnings and comparisons. A vague materialism lowers, subtly, onto our shoulders. As the deep well of love balances against this dual thread, a woman navigates. From where inside of her comes the guidance?

The heart pumps in its ancient way; a depth of knowing, a well of wisdom. This is our central body; the middle heaven.  

Yet do our shoulders lift? Do our breasts project? The throat, the pelvis? Where is our love in these places? How can I live with love in my body?

And how, too, can I embody Spirit? How can I be free of the mind’s imposition here?

A practice, perhaps through the measure of my breath? 

Spiritos. Respiritos. Inspiritos…  

I wonder: Does Spirit embody Love? 
Does love, in fact, reside in spirit?

These questions help me to place love in the body; to cast it about and around. Yes, I want this exercise. I want this practice so as to offset society’s finicky, spidery knots. 

I want to spiritualize love all around my body; to hold its brightness within as a very private reservoir. 

I want.
I want to love love.

May 2017