Reginald Ray

Unfurling petals. Continuing to breath open to see. Blooming further into myself, I can't seem to lose this intense itch. Like decaying flowers -- falling open, or falling about somewhat awkwardly, free from agility, but free and true. I keep pulling out that string from that unfurling hem. Pulling out stitches, knowing that my dress is falling apart, but I just can't help it. I want to see what will happen. I have been staring for a while at this string and turning away, allowing my ideas of what should be, stop me.
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I am seeing where my hunger leads. Making small shifts so I can live in "free"dom all the time. Serving our peoples and animals with the wild flora and elemental world ~ inherent to our well-being on so many levels. Practicing listening and being here. Being creative and loving. Being decadent and raw. Being chaos and order. Sharing. Learning how to be alive on my terms.
What are your terms of being alive?
What do you need to feel alive?
from my boundless heart to your boundless heart . . .
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