Mud

Thick congealed and heavy. Solid. Woven with a lightness, a tenderness, that in that spinning orbit of formation, it becomes as light as air and as translucent in substance. To be aware of old cycles and our refusal to move on, and our willingness to start the orbit of our clay pot, to shape it into something new, and fresh. When we get stuck in a certain pattern or way of living, we become like caked mud…crusty around the edges…drying up. Dehydrated. In order to change those cycles we need to introduce new ideas into our already formed substance. It doesn’t mean changing the original substance of ourselves, just adding necessary aspects and perspectives, even beliefs, that serve to dilute our hardening hearts and souls. As mud is an essentially malleable substance, once we have added what is necessary to prepare for a change, or changes, we are free to form this shape into anything we desire. We can be whatever we want to be. Essentially, we are our own selves, held in our hands and seeping through our fingers. Quivering mud that shivers under our touch and the anticipation of being transformed into something new and innovative. Safe. Friendly. What we find to be ourselves. We wallow in our inner mud self, drowning in it’s thick dark safety and smothering out everything that causes upset and harm. The mud of our inner self is capable of enfolding us and caring for us, while at the same time transforming us into what we desire to be. A more authentic, natural being, with her feet planted into the earth like ancient roots, stretching out and drawing this moisture from the damp soil. Mud wrestling. Fun. Not being self conscious. Feeling the texture and the substance in between your fingers, and knowing that you hold something of substance – something that holds great worth in the history and ancestry of the soil, the earth. But, hold too tightly, and this substance can easily slip through your fingers and escape – leaving only muddy trails. Take up inspirations like fist fulls of mud, but don’t force it…it will leave you just as soon as you grasped it. Naturally. Freely. Form your thoughts and ideas without feeling that you need to. Just do. Within those fistfuls of mud you hold so much power and potential – a whole universe grasped in your hands. You become so filled by it that you can scratch the grit of it from under your fingernails. A universe beneath your fingernails, between your toes, on the soles of your feet, the palms of your hands. Mud. Confidence. Security and safety. Love. Nurturing love. Acceptance. A warm dark sanctuary, a place which transforms with your whims. A safe place to suit your mood, to take you anywhere you need to go. Enfold you. Hold you. An embryo on it’s way to becoming something utterly new and exquisite.