the little boat in my heart
I wrote this piece during Wild Writing today; a writing group I have been a part of every Monday (minus a few weeks here & there) since September 2012. Every week Laurie reads us a poem, and we get a few lines to jump off from… and then we fast & furiously free-write.
Here’s one of today’s beautiful poems, “Self Portrait: Prayer at 37” by Dean Rader
I want to ask
but the little boat
in my heart
lifts its anchor
and sets out:
I mean everything:
I float in
the life vest
just out of reach.
This inspired my piece below…
By nothing, I mean everything.
Being grateful. Accepting. Allowing. Being.
But secretly wishing, longing, hungry, scared, tired.
Dreaming big, making lists, reassuring myself with a plan.
Cheerleading myself. Listening whole-heartedly to those who reflect assuredness of my prowess and skill and worth. Not wanting to want more, but can I have a new car yet, please?
When will I stop spending money I don’t have? When will I be making more money than I’ll ever need?
I am grateful and satisfied… and at the same time want more. And that’s ok, too.
Our lives are full of paradoxes.
Full and happy.
Empty and longing.
We feast, we burn, we run, we hide… then we seek for more to feed on.
I am building boats in my heart big enough to sail vast oceans of love, and sprinkle the decks with laughter and joy, and always have the means to refresh my sails when the worn ones are looking tattered and tired.
Just as the sun has set many times before–and risen again with new light–this night will break with a dawn so bright that the glimmer from the dew, and sheen off the ocean’s surface, will fill the whole world with the deep memory that you really can have it all.