Writing With Movement

I’ve  not heard of this gentleman, Christopher Poindexter, but his words remind me so much of being on the ice, or in a ballroom.

To dance or figure skate is – to me – like transcending spoken language, and speaking with the fluency (and vocabulary) of all the ages. It is as though I have the freedom to fly, though I haven’t (visible) wings with which to do so. And yet…it feels nigh impossible to share that “feeling” with those who haven’t felt it too.

As an Empath, I often question whether verbal language contains enough “words’ to capture emotion – for me, it falls short at times. Frequently, even…

One cannot capture the true and undiluted essence of flying with a pen (though if anyone would desire the ability to articulate such feelings accurately, I. . .and possibly Mr. Poindexter. . .would.)

I suppose that means we just have to be willing to fly, lest we not know the feeling of a movement that can – truly – set us free.

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A Mighty Flame. . .

Even in utter darkness…should an hour so shrouded in Stygian shade come to pass…there is hope.

One need only – as the illustrious poet once said – a tiny spark. For the smallest flicker is all one needs to unleash his mighty flame. . .

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Empaths – What Nothing Feels Like

For Empaths, there is no nothing-ness – for every breath, and every moment, there are five senses, and beyond.  We feel as if to do so is to sustain our very life itself.  

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Gothiness – In Love With Halloween

It is my favorite day, Halloween. I’ve said it more than Scheherazade (though admittedly not with my life – nor freedom – hanging in the balance.)  Still, the ardent affections burrowed deep enough within my heart to remain all this time later.  Halloween in the Northeast in particular is divine – The fragrances in the air intoxicate, the colors seduce, the sounds enchant the ears – there is no aspect of it – neither linearly, nor in the peripheral – that does not send me reeling.  

For many years I wrote an annual Halloween “poem” of sorts – my boss at the time anticipated it harkening the 31st with such eagerness that I would be asked in advance when the e-mail was coming…nevermind that looming Shoe Show deadline! I’d have a new “story” each year – sometimes reflections on a trip I’d taken that reminded me of the season, or the general atmosphere itself, and the command upon my senses. 

I love Hallow’s Eve so much that as a child I was certain it would be the only day on which I’d be married – no matter the calendar year may not oblige with a Hallowed Saturday… To me, there was nothing better than the idea of saying “I do” when I felt most in my element. 

For a while there – and, at this juncture, I will spare the novel – I settled on being solo.  Independence always suited me – I like my space, and neither have I necessarily wanted to be beholden to anyone, nor anyone to me.  But in 2015, the stars aligned in such a way as to change my journey forever.  I knew that moment – even before we spoke a word to one another – that I would rather live my Life with him in it.  I am both humbled and thankful those celestial orbs adhered to their errand so devoutly (lest love have traversed my path only but for a moment…or missed it entirely.)  

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There are countless reasons that I love, but one – no small detail – is that I am accepted and loved for precisely who I am.  That odd amalgamation of goth and glitter…the vampishness, vulnerabilities, empathetic heart, and unconventional predilections towards all things Ninja… 

When I said I wanted to be married on Halloween, I was not only not met with resistance but was asked “on which day does it fall?”  This year…a Monday, sad to say.  But the Saturday before?  Ahhh…

As anyone planning a wedding can attest to, venues book terribly far out.  With about seven months (a hair less), and a contract out on the day I desired, I am convinced the stars – once again – conspired in our favor.  When I was told the day was ours he said “I thought you might have fallen over when you heard him say we could have the 29th!”  I nearly did. 

Not everyone has the luxury of having the date they *may so desperately* want.  And though I am certain two hearts are in true love to be committing in marriage, not everyone is quite so open-minded.  I feel blessed beyond words that I am in a partnership where I – and all my curious conventions (and two black cats!) – are embraced fully.  No two human beings boast edges as smooth as puzzle pieces – what matters, though, is that there is respect, support, and love in spite of our eccentricities (and less than lovely moments.)  

I recognize that Halloween isn’t necessarily the most traditional, nuptially-flavored day…but it was the one I had my heart set on. That I could choose it – indeed as a celebratory time for each year going forward – is special gift in my mind.

For as long as I can recall, my go-to phrase (and story-end sentiment) was “haunt like you meant it.” Well…while you are at it, love like you mean it too – because it is on that precipice where the most profound things occur, and when you suddenly realize just how OKAY it is to be you.