serein
“Only by discovering and loving the goddess lost within our rejected body can we hear our own authentic voice.”
I tussled with the shadow yesterday. Five hours of perfectly delicious rosé I purchased at Origo Bakery. I sipped it slowly in the sand and watched the waves roll up and down. I was perfectly toasted by twilight.
I pedalled home up the hill on the Brompton with my shoes full of sand and cheeks warm with the sun. I wore my turquoise beads, and the blue shone brightly against my forearm by the moon’s light.
I made a toasted cheese sandwich for late supper and licked the salt from my lips as I ate. I washed my feet before bed though not my hair. I slept in a quiet sea of red- sheets and a night slip the shade of the crab's underbelly.
I woke with wild hair and a dry mouth to the sound of pounding and stomping in the building. Sombre. Sober. Stillness- I listened to the thudding and wondered which of my roommates were home.
Sombre. The bubbly buzz wore off; I lay in bed, nested like a swallow waiting for its mother to bring back a worm.
Sober. A reconciliation of events. After a two-hour yoga class, I popped the cork around 3 PM to dine on sweetness. I packed my purple tote bag with Selin, the striped linen beach blanket, and snacks I never opened. I forget to eat when I’m saucing.
Stillness. At the beach, I fell asleep on the hot sand after rubbing my skin with sunscreen. I sat with Selin for a while and cannot remember what she said. I’m a bit sick of her narration. Is it Selin I wanted to get away from, or myself?
When does my shadow appear?
Jessica B. I've decided that the ‘B’ is for Bhuvaneshwari, Empress of Creation and Mother of the Universe and expression of Purusha and Prakriti.
The shadow comes through me when I'm not acknowledging my emotions. I've accepted the surface layer of my feelings, though I have not considered the deeper emotional layers guiding my actions. Unconsciously. Adhere to the subtle- excavate.
I am digging a well.
I do it intentionally, getting tossed to upturn the container and shake out the muck coalesced at the bottom—a deep clean. Soak and then scrub. I've been soaking since Arizona, over a month ago. Yesterday was the time to scour. I drag the shadow out when I need to look at the pieces I compartmentalize. She appears with a toast in crystal glasses when I ask her to.
I paid for a full-body massage, from neck to toenails. The woman who spread my body with her palms full of a lightly-scented lotion wore a white blouse and had dark eyes. I lay on my belly and listened to her breathe as she rolled her knuckles against my muscles. We couldn't properly communicate with words. We didn't need to. Gesture is as relevant as words- perhaps more so- though we are losing the ability to understand non-verbal/visual means of language.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like not to be such a sensorial learner... like what would it be like to not pick up on the feelings of those around you?
It's my favourite aspect of literature; understanding the subplot. I wish I could focus on what is spoken instead of being pulled into the spaces in between. What is left out has just as much meaning as what is included.
It is my least favourite element of human relationships. I feel first and am easily confused by reason.
Devastating love. There's nothing more arousing than the total investment of the heart. The backstory is actually the main event though few are brave enough to go there.
The birds soar through the bright blue sky at sunrise, black wings sweeping in search of bugs. Watching the flock, I wonder what I am searching for and know it's my heart. I know where it lives in my body. I know who it belongs to, the romance that sets my spirit aflame. I know what it beats for, the rhythms of language and poetry- the understanding that I’ll create my own world to be recognized with practice and patience. I know when I feel it most acutely when writing or doing yoga.
The missing part is the why- why do I do what I do. I keep circling as the birds around the same question… why am I here? Why have I come here?
It’s a question of moving towards and running away.
It can be both.
It is both.
Just as the Goddess greets the Shadow and the Shadow needs the Goddess. Both are of me- Jessica B and Stephanie.
I am digging a deep well. It’s cold and quiet. I will fill it with water when I am done. Replenish. I am not there at that point of fulfilment just yet. I am still digging. An excavation. What is thrust up and out of the darkness is not nearly as murky or disgusting as it used to be. I’ve cleared the edges. I’ve brought the filth from the shadows many times before, and what is revealed to me now is nothing new.
Nothing interesting occurred yesterday. I tipped the pot over and spilled the content though there was no mess to clean up.
What would Georgina say? What would she ask me?
What do I need right now….
I don’t feel I need anything- perhaps that is the issue. I am not consciously addressing my needs.
Let’s address the plot- girl goes on global adventure to experience different continents as she works remote.
Now let’s examine the subplots- girl flees her small city where she was wounded and couldn’t stay anchored.
Or- girl goes tours the globe in search of her heart.
Or what about- girl seeks escapism and treats herself to an epic journey where she writes of her lifelong dedication to romance.
There are so many options.
Photo source.
