Musings on wanting, on writing, on being

It's all swirling around in my head at the moment. I have the feeling it is going to culminate in Saturday's full moon. This dreaming. This knowing.

Thinking about what it is to want. As opposed to what it is to have.

Thinking about desires. Seeing the word freedom emerge alongside connection. The mantra that drives me -- the state I constantly aspire to -- a clear head and a light heart, suddenly falling into place.

Choosing to collect images of all the things I covet, and honour them in my Smash journals. I have three such journals on the go: one for writing and dream creative projects; one for our home; and one for anything that moves me (let's call it love).

Finding that the magpie-like curation, alighting on the image, tearing it out without questioning why, cutting it carefully, pasting it joyfully, somehow seems to obviate the need for the item itself.

Noting the that whole image is greater than the sum of its parts.

Seeing myself, my true heart's desires, right there in the green and and blue tiles and the yellow owls and the cosy fireplaces and the succulents in pretty pots and the striking geometric colour swatches and the fun accessories and the quirky heartfelt stories. And the Eiffel Towers and the Empire State Buildings and the pumpkin pie and the crocheted flowers and the ocean views and the crisp white sheets and the sumptuous ottomans. And the lists upon lists upon lists.

Hearing the words and noting the messages. I am receiving this, over and over again, in infinite permutations and combinations:

If you want to know the story that is yours to tell, listen to the things you say, watch the things you do, look at how you move, note the things that people ask of you, open up to the things you find easy, allow your natural rhythms, notice where the peace is, see what you gravitate to.

I see that this does not refer to my compulsions, those persistent soggy habits, redolent of haze and laze.

I understand that the things being summoned here are the ones I choose when I am awake and fully knowing that I am always in choice. And actively choosing the things that bring me joy. The things that bring me closer to me. The things that feel like me.

There's no longer a need to look outside myself. Just sit with my needs. They have something to teach me. They will not be denied... but I understand that this no longer entails mindless consumption.

It is about honouring. Spaciousness. Self.

However counterintuitive this might seem: this is the optimum space for generosity, authenticity, faith. Sustainability. Light, bright, pure energy. True love.

This is the space where words tumble out and diaries are opened and feelings are shared and the world grows, one heartbeat at a time.

This is the space where I currently twirl, like a dervish, gently gaining momentum.