Wet Earth

I write to smell the rain. Writing marks the pulse of life. Expressing through words with pen and paper allows me to recognize the impermanence of all things and also the creation of all things. As a child there were aspects to life I did not understand and so I used writing to escape. To create a world that existed beyond my current reality and life has changed since then in so many ways and I am grateful for change. Writing instigates change. Writing is important to me because it is my closest companion who has held space for me to be who I am in my fullest most raw forms: the messy, angry, clever, joyful, excited, charming and terrible.

Writing allows me to forgive myself, to find peace, or make sense of a world that is really confusing. I don’t know why there is so much anger in the world or rage within myself. I trust however that in touching these shadowed places where I’ve kept hidden the darkness and shame it is also the process of healing them. I am here to heal. I am here to forgive, to make peace with myself, love all of me, accept humanity and inspire the world to be seen because when I see another woman or a man touching their beauty in all their light and dark places it makes me celebrate being human. Writing allows me to celebrate what it is to be human. Today, it smells of wet earth.

 

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