Melancholy

fc96bb6ebd3914b6fff0a7b763254fd6At times the tears feel as though they are just behind my words. To speak but a murmur more is to open the door where the water waits to rush in. This is the way of life. This is the way of the heart as it opens ever-wide to embrace the fullness of the all, and it is the fullness that calls me. I drink from the fountain out of which it pours itself filling me to overflow. It is there in the overflow of my fullness that the words crowd each other, too afraid to move an inch in any direction where space may be created and water able to rise meeting its own level. No one seeks to drown. They huddle tightly until an exhale appears and release happens. The water can only be held inside the capacity of the one holding and my hands are too small to hide where vulnerability meets itself and the door behind which the water waits is opened. It comes rushing.

I am cleansed.

I am free.

I am loosed from that which held me and seemed to threaten me until I leaned in. It is when we lean into rather than turn away from that we feel life’s expanse and float atop the highest vibration where the current flows.

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