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Sitting On the Floor, Drinking Tea, Admiring Life
Reflections days before I move home from Japan
Seeking ease to start the day, tea leaves on the bare red carpet, a chipped bowl to drink from. I want to be empty. The sun shines through me as it falls through the window, reaching deep.
I long to be whole, but not for vulnerability, broken like the chipped bowl, yet perhaps better for my imperfections where the sun may shine truly, flawed, creating room to grow.
Open-hearted, lion-hearted, love-centric.
My universe is spinning, my brain sliding out, my mind consumed by thoughts, the threads of me unweaving, but I won’t succumb to doubt.
The sun’s still shining in the sky of my soul, the tea on the floor rich, clean, clear.
Content.
I’m leaving Japan.
I cried this morning. It’s overwhelming. I’m feeling deeply right now, deep, deep love for the vulnerability of life.
It’s profound — this unshakable magnitude. I’m doing my best to ride the waves.
In Japan I’ve healed so much more than just my body, allowing change to wash through to my core.
I look at the wall in my apartment full of pictures, mementos, art, and postcards I’ve…
