Tag Archives: passion

this has the word “sex” in it

no real title yet, still a work in progress

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ain’t it feel right

she touches needle to vinyl, finds the groove, releases. closes her eyes. again.

the lights are out. late afternoon shadows shuffle into the room, making it cool and green. her feet trace circles into the matted carpet. she feels for the sonic sweet spot, then settles in and stills herself. the sound comes, full, embodied. it’s the same sound she’s heard for the past hour, three minutes forty-nine seconds at a time, before she rips the arm from the disc and searches for the beginning. as if finding it could somehow help her wriggle out of her skin, become frequency and amplitude. life feels all amplitude anyway these days.

again.


enter title here.

I want to write something that feels like Merrill’s song “Bizness.” I want to write something strange and colorful and ugly and astounding. I want to write a kaleidoscope, a circus.

I want to write a forest, the quiet, the birds, twigs snapping, light shafts through the canopy, individual redwood trees. I want to write space and silence.

I want to write nature, prowess and fecundity and awe. I want to write the terror of lightning hitting inches above the earth, and the planet rising with all its might to meet it. I want to write a phoenix out of that crack in the sky. I want to write rebirth.

Okay. I think I’m ready.


Spirit

I want a spirit-led life.

By this I mean capital-S Spirit and lowercase-s spirit. I want to listen to that still, small voice inside me the way I do at Friends meeting, when I go and when I can settle down enough to quiet my brain and really center. I want it to dictate my actions and my priorities, because when I listen to the World, I get pulled in infinite different directions. When I listen to that voice, I focus on one thing at a time. Life runs in slow motion and I feel each action’s gravity, each moment’s pregnancy, and I savor it. I think life is meant to be lived as much this way as possible. I think God (in whatever form God may exist) wants us to cherish this gift.

I want a passionate life. I want my life to be full of that fundamentally human spark that drives us to pursue love fiercely, create with abandon, and forget our fears for even as little as ten minutes at a time. And slowly I want to stretch that ten minutes into twenty, and then twenty-six, and then nineteen (hey, I’m human), but finally into an hour at a time, and then longer. I want a life that makes me so happy to live it that I can’t wait to get out of bed.

I want my candle to shine. Have you ever been to a Christmas Eve service where the congregation lights candles while singing “Silent Night”? One candle doesn’t do much in the way of illumination, but a churchful of candles can light the entire sanctuary in a way that makes everything seem softer, more beautiful, more lovable. We should all look at one another, I would like to think, as if we are more lovable than perhaps we are. And I certainly see the person beside me better when her candle is lit and shining in front of her than when it is hidden under the pew. Our passions have the power to make us beautiful and integral. It takes each one of those candles to form that powerful moment.


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