Unburdened
Moon 3 - Fantasies of furs, feathers, props and pearls
Being in the dark is tricky. I feel scared, unsure of where to position myself. The thought that all the glistening trinkets and souvenirs I believe1 make up my world are out of sight, unreachable, and perhaps gone for good leaves me feeling very empty. My mind begins to play games with the rest of my body, with itself.
This past moon I’ve caught myself feeling an overwhelming sense of loss for my trinkets, pearls, feathers and life props, as well as for the simplest of real things: The early sunshine of spring, the glistening of rain on grass, the unassuming grey of fog as it spreads across the mountain. I’ve imagined myself combing the beach, running across dunes with sand underfoot, my very own magic carpet of stimulation. Wet, transparent seawater closing around me, salty, exuberant, satisfying, and faintly confusing, like the taste of black liquorice. Of lying on warm mossy grass as soft as the iridescent underbelly plummage of a common raven, the sun warming my skin whilst the scent of bog myrtle and meadowsweet drown my senses - these small transactions of love.
All this whilst in pitch black.
My body is still, my mind keeps moving.
I know the descent is over, things have settled. I’m not floating anymore, I’m just here. In the dark, I’m here, there, and everywhere. Literally, filling all the space.
There is no gloom here though, it’s much more puzzling than melancholy, it’s massive, and whilst it’s unnerving, it’s not at all burdensome! In fact, the weight of responsibility simply doesn’t exist. There is absolutely nothing to be done, nothing to:
prove
display
exhibit
acquire
check
manifest
divulge
demonstrate
flaunt
or
illustrate.
As the dark moon slowly slithers to a new one, I realise it has unburdened me.
“Believe,” because I can’t actually see what matters from here. Some things feel gone, but I don’t yet know if they’re lost.