Trust ~ it's the theme of the week. Perhaps, you've been experiencing this, too.
Personally, I've been actively examining how I hold my voice back, and wondering if this is the imbalance of my Divine Feminine who has, for too long, allowed for too much dis-ease or if it's merely a ripe, pregnant silence filled with fertility and possibility yet located within the deep humility of unconditional LOVE. I dunno.
What's also become clear is that I don't trust I have what it takes to be able to share with you what I'm authentically feeling because I am scared I will hurt you. I am afraid that words will tumble out of my mouth like daggers and that I'll mistakenly stab you with my misplaced nouns and adjectives. I don't trust myself to not hurt you and I don't trust you to be able to take care of yourself. Unfortunately, what all of this fear leads to is a lack of intimacy.
However, Deep, Raw, Authentic Intimacy is what I crave most.
So, you come over and we walk, hand in hand, to the park. We're not lovers; we're brother and sister. It need not matter who thinks what. At the park, we climb into Grandmother Ficus as I watch you scale her thick branches into towering heights that have me on the edge of my seat. But I don't respond, I simply allow you your process as you dazzle me with a fearlessness beyond my own.
We play together, guiding one another on a 'trust walk.' I've done it here, before, so I fall into a pattern of leading. You, however, continue to blow me away with your intuitive ability as you teach me how to take the trustng deeper and to a whole new level.
We make our way west where we dance in the sand to the rhythms flowing out of your boombox and then dive into the pitch, black ocean, naked. I swim with my fear - it's a heavy weight around my ankles that eventually leads me back to shore as you and K continue to splash and revel in ecstasy. Nude, I dance along the shoreline as the stars shimmy and twinkle overhead.
I'm afraid you're a tease, Mr. NYC. I'm afraid I'm, once again, investing my seeds into infertile soil. I'm afraid that I don't have what it takes to stand in my power and declare, "THIS IS IT." So, I guess I'll just let it bee what it is and, maybee, in the process I'll realize that this is me trusting you trusting me.
