Moving at the pace of desire

like dripping honey at golden hour

photo by Ariella Mandel

Dear reader,

What if trying to do this perfectly — trying to get it all right — is the thing stopping you from flourishing?

What if it’s the thing blocking you from feeling alive?

It’s the “shoulds,” the “have to’s,” the expectations. It’s “people will take me more seriously if I do this” and “but people will think it’s weird.” It’s centering external noise & pressure when your body is aching to lead. It’s talking yourself out of things that light you up because other people won’t get it. It’s thinking you’re not brave enough. It’s the fear of being canceled. It’s the harsh voice of your inner critic (which, I’m willing to bet, isn’t actually your voice).

But there is another way, beyond the inner critic. I didn’t know until I knew—and now there is no going back.

I move at the pace of my body, which is really the pace of desire.

Slow
Slower than you think is possible
Dripping like honey
Like sunset at golden hour

The play between shadow and light
Like the soft golden tones of a trumpet rising over a melody

A shimmering river
A mossy bed
Morning dew
Dawn breaking over a sleepy landscape

Desire,
a magnetism,
a flame in my belly,
Silent prayers to the moon
A tapestry of death and rebirth

Listening with sacred attention to the language of my body,
the texture of my heart—
Whispering the stuff of songbirds
A rhythmic telling of truth and subtlety
Full of texture and oozing with life

The universe pulses at my fingertips—
This is how desire moves me

When spirit speaks,
what choice do I have but to listen?

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Here’s what’s been circulating in my portal of delights lately ~