As it is.

Currently:

Staying at my parents house
Multiple suitcases and boxes exploded through my space
Tissue box full of tears
Tarot cards and journal filled with my heart
Sleeping dog
Dance
Letting my body speak for me
Migraine and nausea
Late period
Hernia pulling at my hip
Numbness
Big bursts of sadness

So much comfort in being somewhere familiar, in being with family
So much discomfort in not fully feeling like I can be myself here

So much desire to be full
And so much heartbreak in not being full

The contradiction of feeling so much love, more love than ever before
And the deep hurt of not knowing a full love

The contradiction of seeing how much more of me I know, and am
And the continual sadness of not knowing her before, and knowing that there is still so much hiding inside me

Dancing everyday, for no one, and nothing, but dance.
For the thing that moves me.
The realization that I perhaps hadn’t actually danced a day in my life, until about a month ago.
And that dance knows how to hold the full me
If I let it.

My limited capacity to perform.
My growing weakness to be someone or something I am not.
And the intense consequences when I do.

My limited capacity to write and share here.
To translate my experience outward.
These words are all that is here.

Finding life, and that life has been here all along.
Holding the parts of me that have been fighting, trying, so hard, for so long.
Letting them weep.
Letting them flail as we shift.

Letting it all be as it is.
As it is.
As it is.

Originally written December 13, 2021.