I’m Burning

I’m flying. I’m strong. I take up the space I live in. I have a voice. My mind is clear. I look after my body. I look after my soul. I’m learning how to do the things I need, what strange food and drink I must live upon: like sleeping under stars, running away from home, breaking the routines. It makes me strong. It makes me fly.

I have the most incredible life.

Today was amazing. I did things, with this fierce roar in my chest. I did difficult things, without anguish. I walked a long way through the autumn, wind blowing through my heart, feet kicking up leaves. I made soup, for dinner, with my hands, and felt connected to the simple needs of a body. I met with people and made plans and did needful things for home and business and networks and through it all I was bold and attuned. I gave out a lot of energy and did a great many things.

I’ve been finding what I need. Rose has been helping me so much. Lost in her own grief as she is, she has been so faithful. She’s organised and arranged each of the three trips we’ve taken since Tamlorn died. And with each, my head has become clearer. She’s cooked countless meals when I didn’t feel like eating, done hours of shopping and bought home treats to tempt me. She’s the beloved heart of my world.

My world has been kind. My friends give to me, in many different ways, so generously. I have a tribe who love me. My tutors are giving me room to breathe at college, to find my feet, to ask the questions I have to ask and find some end to the tangled thread I can follow. I have been very fortunate in my pain. I have been well loved.

And I am thriving. I’m bursting with energy and passion. I know this place, it’s intense. I’m in a state of growth and output. Full of courage and strength, I could uproot trees and dig lakes with my hands! It’s fierce and magic. I have to care for myself so it doesn’t burn me out, doesn’t wear me to the bone, doesn’t eat me from the inside like fire. I have to rest, to listen for strain and exhaustion, take days off, allow downtime. There are seasons in all things, including this. I will use the energy while it is here, build new things, tear through the obstacles that were defeating me, move my whole world. And I will listen for the tiring, the turning away, the winter settling in. I will slow and be still, retire, meditate, listen to the earth, when I need. And I will grow peacefully, the small things each day; the dedication of farmer tending crop and shepard the flock. Each season in turn.

But gods, it’s good to burn again. The Roar in me still ringing. This is life and I will suck the marrow from it.

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