Sitting in the Spotlight
quick update from the spirit world, straight to your ear/eyeballs
Spirit world is quiet today, the underweaving of the universe and relationships and our memories, tied and tired, unraveling and unwinding.
It has blues and greys, today, my eyes focusing on the side, the big cities and celebrations too loud, for me. Jazz and blues and scattering of notes across freckled skin, laughter heard from the other room, dirt remembered, but gone when I check.
The world rumbles and I close my eyes, not ready, not listening, not here. Not now.
I’m sitting in the wings of the theater, I hope, quietthinking with the bustling of actors and stage managers and interns, fueled by coffee and anxiety and poor food, their egos loud and listening, fired by the magic of creating something, anything, together.
I look up, and I’m center stage, eyes squinting beneath the lights, eyelids heavy with panic and no, if I just close my eyes, I’ll just — be alone, behind the scenes, gone.
The scene, the world, the universe goes on, happy with me in the center of the bustling, this bustling, loudhappyjoyfulpride, my legs aching with unhappy and happy and alone.
I sigh and sit up and look around, trying to catch my lines, the other’s eyes lighting up to see me seeing, not missing a beat, but they’re leaving space, time, for me to step up and look around and say the words, and — sing.
Or write or nuzzle or be.
Space, for me, to be.
It feels wonderful and warm as I stand up and stretch and laugh in time with the others, flowing with each other, getting used to the pace and the audience and the newfound joy. The grins, the flits, the skips, the noise, gathering together, loud and peaceful and whole and growing.
Ever growing, as we leave space for you and her and them and him and —
with usual shoutouts to my
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