How grateful I am for the sound of my soul sister’s tapping fingers on the keyboard, an electric current running through the house, a touch of actioning masculine energy that provides consistency, stability, security, a foil to the feminine energy I am feeling in overwhelming amounts today: to dance, to stretch, to sway, to nap, to meditate, to write, to create, to use my hands, to cook, to garden.
How beautiful it is to be feminine, to be slow, to be soft, to be gentle, in a world that is quite literally cold and grey and hard.
…
She loves me but I let her down.
But she knows.
The masculine can masquerade, but she is the feminine, too. Light, love.
How lucky I am to have her on my team, despite the many flaws and faults I bring to the table. Maybe she sees my magic, like purple flowers on a bush that make you blind to the overgrown mess, the lack of mulch in places, the decrepit fence behind.
Because flowers!
Magic, purple flowers that brighten the day, the earth, the sky, the eyes of everyone who sees them.
I am so grateful for purple flowers.