you & me

Become Beautifully Bold.

{Photo credit: Jemima House}

{Photo credit: Jemima House}

The exploration of one moment took up months of my time as it expanded and retracted, pulling me with it. Deliberation.

Appropriation of myself. Attachment. Obsession. Devotion. Love.

The biggest lie I ever swallowed was that I need to be selective with my love, with who I show my soul to, my self to. Protect, save and hoard my heart-treasures, my essence, and devise a complex set of criteria that require satisfying in an exact order before I slowly, and with great difficulty, struggle to open the heavy, jammed shut, iron door that covers it.

I did not realize that soft, fragile, funny, lovely and real things (the things that make up my real self) do not enjoy being trapped behind big, heavy doors. When I finally opened the door, I found to my dismay, a pile of emaciated, starving, weak things without strength to move or express themselves.

I looked on sadly, with remorse, that I had never let them play and frolic and be free, that in my fastidious efforts to preserve them for some future time, I forgot what they needed.

So when I see you, I will touch you and I will smile with my eyes, and be still and open when you smile back. The soft, fragile, lovely and real things inside of us will be let out to breathe, explore, play and dance. Every time I do this, I leave the door ajar.

I sculpted a shape in my sleep that fit the mold I was handed. I put layer upon layer of brittle, hard, opaque armor on in case anyone should try to open that door. That small fluttering in my chest and belly was the sound of my true self beating on the door, begging for air, hands raw, tears falling, pleading: Let. Me. Out.

But I didn’t hear.

Maybe something happened to me one day. A strange thing. A painful, beautiful thing. A shock or a slow-burning, quietly tumultuous thing. In the stillness that followed, I went in search of all the locked doors, all the hidden places and every dark, sealed-off part inside, and when I found them, I used all my strength to prise them open.

Gasping for air, weak and shaky with eyes squinting at the light, a little gaggle of adorable creatures emerged; taking faltering steps, they softly tip-toed up and out to be replenished by new experience, random happenings and, of course, the warm sunshine of other people’s love.

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JemimaHouse06Jemima House is a yogini and writer who experiences regular bouts of unbearable lightness and needs to be upside down a lot. Walking the tightrope between angelically mellow and devilishly stubborn, she is a wandering star with a big heart. Also the owner of Positive Living UK, a unique network supporting and inspiring people in living their passion.

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