“Why are you crying?” I asked, and all you could say when you looked up, with a tear in your eye was, “Because there are oceans in me, and I might finally be learning how to swim.” ~ Mary Kate Teske

I swim in the crook of a question mark and I am slowly evolving into an exclamation. The universe keeps sending me signals and teaching me how to receive. Especially right now when I’m really confused.

It hurts to breathe.

Some days I get lost and my words do too. I bleed tears on my mat, keyboard, in my car, stoplight—as I dissolve and expand into new truths.

I had to figure out a way to comfort myself and writing is my outlet. I wrote to my sensitive self. The sides of me that are triggered by lack of whatever: self confidence, comparison and jealousy—but mostly shedding my ego.

I begin:

Dear Sensitive Heart,

You are a mystery to me. I can’t always see your face but I breathe in your words. I hang in the shadows looking for you. There’s a twinge in my heart and I crave to see more of the real you. I long to hear your pure voice and when I do, let’s rejoice.

This precipice is the edge of the unknown. It’s where apprehensions and worries are transformed.

I want to find the depth of your soul and listen to your dreams. I will hear and understand your passions. Let’s soar with your arrow-shot intentions.

We will dwell and linger over sips of espresso– without fear. I’ll bring you tea and biscuits, in the midafternoon and will tell you, there’s a reason for all of this.

TLC is needed as you transform and awaken your inner warrior.

I know you’ve searched for decades and your achiness cries silent sounds.

You don’t think you are of this world and are so sure you don’t belong. The potential is there.

I know, it sincerely terrifies your growing heart.

I silently lay by your side at night and I catch a glimpse of a magical affair. Quickly though, you advert your crystal-blues and the sensation of peacefulness slips through your hair.

Please tender soul, give me a chance.

I will hold you closely to my heart and unfold the scent of your essence. It is tenderly snug. Strong and creative. Playfully, I hear your music in the wind. I will listen for you. We will exchange words with meaning. Knowing looks too.

I will continue to ask you sliced-hearted questions: Where did we go wrong? How can we improve? When did I stop loving you?

I don’t want to spend time begging you to share with me. I want it to come naturally. It is a feeling of release and relief…a safety and unveiling of self-love. I want your words to captivate me and likewise mine to captivate you.

Take me away on an excursion and let me be part of the planning. Let’s blend with the village and walk the streets hand-in-hand. I want to see the sunrise and breathe the morning mist. Set sail around the world and be held in tenderness.

I know you have moments when you need to be with solitude. I will drink moon juice with you and enjoy our quiet fortitude.

Respect me and I promise to respect you.

I don’t pretend to be fancy. I’d rather wear tattered and torn. I love colors in nature, the sky and the sea. Let me hold your heart gently. I take nothing for granted. I’ll count the grains of sand and my thoughts can drift peacefully below the sea.

My ribs press tears into humble sobs of  surrender and gratitude.

I hurt so deeply when I think of you, hiding, afraid and unsure. I don’t even know if you see your budding beauty.

Therefore, I’ll carve out a niche for us and fill it with emerald hues deeply enrobed in mossiness. I’ll place sapphire, tourmaline and cat’s eye marbles….plus seeds of stardust to lighten the mood. Let’s snuggle with our inner flame and watch the rapture bloom. I’ll severe my ties of denied dreams and hold opal threads shimmering and new.

We’ll start over again, your hand in mine.

What seemed impossible before, is likely now as I stitch the outer nodes of cosmic truth into a prism of refined energy. The perpetual beauty of these inner storms are here to stir the sequences and erase old karmic refuse.

You are shedding ego and tapping into the nectar inside.

All that has happened is led to now. My achiness lessens and embraces my unusual—as the norm.

Once more I’m letting go. Another layer drapes gently around my ankles. I’ll step over the memories and walk the beaches to see the sunrise and sunset. I will drink colors, mingled with rose petals and wrap leaves around my tenderness.

I’ll look in the mirror and find me in you.

I don’t think you really see it—yet,

but you are beautiful.

And…

I love you.

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Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: Dee Ashley at Flickr