Life is… quiet right now. In a good way. In a way where you wake up at 4 AM and you aren’t tired and open the door and the street is sleeping, the sun is sleeping and the moon is getting ready for bed.
The world is quiet and I’m alone, and for once… I like it like that.
The world maybe isn’t quiet but I’m inside and I have no interest in playing in the hearts of anyone but myself—it’s warm inside my home. I have pottery mugs that have traveled far and deserve to be here. I have books that I’ve read and books to read and books to write and there’s finally time to do that.
I’m taking space for myself—and it’s different. It’s quiet.
I’m smiling at the men who show up everyday, but I’m also smiling as I walk away—because right now I’m learning trust. And not trust in men—trust in myself.
This season men are treating me nice—their hair is combed, they are on time, they say the right things, they don’t run away when I share my fears and feelings—they step closer into the light I am. They are secure, available and they want commitment. The commitment and open hands surrounded me and I got confused—I was so excited to be treated in the way I’ve always wanted, and chosen in the way I’ve asked that I was afraid I was just saying yes to being chosen, being loved and not who was in front me.
So I step back—I say no thank you for the dances tonight. I smile at the flowers and the man with the warm smile at the grocery store but I’m not dancing right now.
I’m getting quiet—for the next step is, once it’s normal that secure, loving, available, courageous men show up—who do I want?
Blooming quietly in the rain of fall in California.