Like light and warmth, visible and infrared, like frequencies and vibrations, love keeps bathing our bodies, and our souls. If you cannot see this, if your senses are unable to perceive this, then you most likely live in a dangerous proximity to a black hole. Gravity will complete its shredding job if you won’t learn, again, to fly away.
Love is Flying!
The Essence of Snow
Put the (too many) voids apart and see that water makes (most of) the universe. Burning water, steaming water, liquid water, solid water, dusting water.
Twas about noon when the silvery canopy above commenced to ash snowflakes upon our house. Water. I get it from the tap, well, the reverse osmosis filters, in liquid form. It is brought up from the earth, the rivers. It makes about three quarters of my body, and his body – wherefrom I get it especially in a particular sticky and bitter-sweet juicy complex of vitamins and minerals. We are mostly water, lovely water.
Called him to join me at the window. Holding hands, we spent there as much time as we could. Staring at the snowing. Dreaming. Or trying to. The next minute we had to run back to our tasks. Yet the minute of lovemaking remained with us, in our memories, in the lines of this blog post. Water again. Some water must spin the turbines that send electrons throughout all the servers and the internets (not a plural, but I try not to care now).
The Appearance of Imagination
In ancient Egypt, mummifiers pulled the brains out of noses with a hook, before slaughtering other organs out of the body. Embalmers have been in the business of keeping the image after the soul, and the water, were gone. Mainstream medicine, hijacked by pharma, is too deeply invested in alleviating the symptoms rather than preventing what causes the imbalance of health in the body. Drugs are advertised to take pain away with a hand move. But when chemistry and math produce the formulae and equations, when processed sugar equals alcohol; or yeast, candida, cancer; or sea fruit = cockroaches and pork = poisons (and the list goes on, it is boring science after all), then the control-damage departments of the industries, the image-makers, pour more money into their advertising campaigns. And water dries out.
Scars as Souvenirs
I have a significant scar on my abdomen, between my belly button and my mons pubis. I don’t hide it, on the contrary. I’m not ashamed of it, why should I be? I am comfortable to pose naked, show it, like any other inch of my body. That scar, however, means more than ‘any’ other inch. Because it reminds me of my son, of the moments when, God willing, I was given to bring a new life to this world. I am grateful for that scar. It’s a souvenir.
Oh, wrinkles? Don’t get me started on that field. But scars and wrinkles are not simple souvenirs. They are daily reminders about accepting yourself, taking good care of your body (allow the drama her well-deserved place in the past) and learning how to water the day for the morning to blossom in more beauty.
Water brings beauty, among other good things.
My Resolution for 2016 is: more water!
Water is the essence of the present.