"The truer life"

I don't know if it is the months of letting tsunamis wash over me, or the death of my dad, or the increased alignment with the divine feminine, or thinking about Mark Rothko's paintings. But right now, I feel like every false layer of my existence (that huge fluffy down jacket that I guess most of us carry around) has washed away, and I am nearly down to the bare-bones truth. I've had fewer layers than a lot of women, not having married, had children, been a home-owner or a career woman. Yet layers still built up over the years, concealing, distracting, covering, making me palatable (or when not palatable, invisible) to the outside world.  

My physical body has felt ripped to shreds over these last two weeks. In the wreckage has emerged a few new buds of life; I am articulating my truth more straightforwardly to people, singing my music, and accepting loving care. I'm down to the bare bones of me, and nothing that is not "about" that seems to be getting footing now. It's the only light beaming out of this lantern, the only energy that I am capable of expressing. I'm lean. Hopefully, not "mean." Just focused. 

That wonderful poem by Adelaide Anne Procter (shared by Sharon Blackie in If Women Rose Rooted) seems perfect for today.

"No star is ever lost we once have seen

We always may be what we might have been...

The hope that lost in some far distance seems,

May be the truer life, and this the dream."

It has taken a bit longer than I expected, but in upcoming weeks and months, I will walk this leaner me through the sand and down to my boat. I'll bail her out and make a few repairs, make her seaworthy. I'll put some supplies on board. Then she and I will head into the new stretch of river. I don't know yet whether the river itself will be different or whether the quality of my steering and leadership will be different, but somehow, I will get closer to my truer life. I suspect that this blog may evolve somewhat too, that the nature of my writing may become more intuitive, led more by my heart than my thinking head. This is the dream, anyway, to steer by heart toward my personal star. We all have a star, and it is never lost. Adelaide is right about that.