My knees are burning. My back is cramping. Tears stream down my cheeks in frustration. All I want to do is dance again. To move. To feel alive.

Wall of blank.

Exhaustion rises up, fog descends.

My mantra: I am lucky. This is temporary. This too shall pass.

I don’t believe it.

My body tells me that all there is is Now. Now is all. It might be correct.

I curl up on the floor. Empty.

I catch my breath. Numb.

Noticing, with strange detachment, that the world has become distant. That I’ve been a quiet automaton for hours, days… perhaps longer.

I breathe myself back into my body. Back into my feet. Back into the burning, aching flesh.

At least I feel alive.

I notice. Even restrained, even with the limits of movement, even with the fog and frustration, Here and Now, if I can keep my self in my belly, in my feet, in my hands, in my flesh… I can breathe and expand. The deeper into the flesh I go, the deeper into the magic. The deeper into the world I sink, the more I can expand, the more I am aware of. Oh it hurts, yes, but with each breath is life. With each prickly of goosebumps the wild spirits brush my skin with fingertips, tentacles, lips dripping in nectar.

The more present I am, the more present I am with Them. The gods stand behind me, the ancestors whisper in my ear, the spirits draw near. I can feel my edges, raise my shields, let down my hair, call out the cry of a Witch in the night.

The deeper into my body I can stay, when all my instincts are to flee, to float into painless disconnection, the closer the magic is.

Her and Now. Here and Now at the crossroads of every moment. Here and Now is where the web of Wyrd is woven, where the Power lies.

 

I am lucky, this too shall pass, this too shall return to the Fertile Darkness from whence it came, I am lucky, there are lessons here, if I can just stop running, just be Here and Now.

And in the stillness, I dance.