Painting in a Day class at Squam
You're safe, they urge,
their own colors
dazzling
my eyes.
We wait for you to join the dance,
their invitation swirling in the air,
lingering
as though they'd wait forever,
paused
in anticipation,
expecting me.
But first, I must learn the steps, I think.
And they just smile, knowing, and
hold out their hand, waiting.
If I start, maybe they won't let me stop, I think,
I can't keep up with those who've gone before.
It only takes one step, said one.
Just one, and then you'll see.
Your dance is all your own,
one that can't be seen
or felt,
or done at all,
ever,
anywhere,
unless you take
the step.
Your dance makes ours better.
As though a veil was lifted, suddenly
I see the truth.
All the dancers, are beautiful and free,
in step, but each one different.
Each taking one step.
And another.
And another.
A symphony of single steps,
the harmony nearly too beautiful to bear.
They stop to see what I will do,
making room for me.
I see my place, my opening,
my heart racing, sinking.
I take my first step.
I remove the mask,
made by me and the voices of the world.
They gasp in surprise and recognition and joy.
I am one of their own.
As I set my foot upon the stage,
I catch a glimpse, a sliver of my image,
as I am caught up and swirled away
in the arms of my new tribe.
I see me.
For the first time, maybe.
And for the first time,
in such a long, long time.
I see.
That I
Am
Enough.
*this is what came tumbling out in my journal the other day, on the inspiration of a little stone I found in the woods at Squam, with the word "Emerge" painted on it. Its scary and raw feeling to put this out there. And really, really good.