Breath of life

There is an aliveness, a rhythm to life — to earth — that can’t be described, only felt. It weaves through infinite threads and sacred tremors; a web of creation.

The movement of spirit can’t be explained.
The passage of collective evolution doesn’t need a name.
The life force cannot be contained.

The wild is an animate infusion of alchemy and elemental music. It is a force that exists far outside of my personal experience, far outside the realms that my primitive brain can even begin to comprehend.

We may call this force Spirit. Shakti. Shamanism. Love. Energy. Awen. How does one describe the breath of all life? How does one label the sacred? How does one designate or define the awakening of devotion?

The agitation I feel trying to “human” in a mechanical world is the boundless call of this experience we call life. It is a reminder of the
Infinite.
Holy.
Magical.
Transformative.
Grace.

There are no limitations in limitlessness. No definitions of vastness. No normalcy in creative expression. No linear path or process to healing.

I am this body. A mere fragment of the animate world — and yet, I exist in a realm where all possibilities and potentialities exist.

I am this body. And I am also clay molded from a collective experience.

I am this body. And I am the river, the trees, the sky, the one who is perceiving and capturing the moment.

I am this body. And I am all that is.