A Spring Heart
Take full account of what excellencies which you possess, and in gratitude remember how you would hanker after them, if you had them not.
Marcus Aurelius Antonius
What keeps an artist going is the joy at being able to express with great faculty their thoughts. To create tangible expressions of their inner world is a great gift. Who does not long to tell, in a meaningful way, their story to some degree, and have it understood, even appreciated?
I turned a year older a few days ago. Funny, I still feel 17 – a little amazed at myself and my circumstances, a little frustrated, hormonal, goofy, stubborn, impetuous, at times awkward, at times brilliant grace. Glittering with possibility still – ever changing, growing, exploring, creating.
I don’t look older, meaning my chassis must have been built right. Good genes, no drinking, being a vegetarian. I need to balance work and play better, as I’m a total workaholic. But then when you get to play with the tools and ideas I do, why would you want to sleep?
I’m grateful for the copious gifts I’ve been blessed with – incredible artistic talent, a brilliant and agile mind, the ability to be visionary and practical, the endurance and fortitude to have built so much from absolutely nothing. I’m grateful for my great self will, sometimes fearing its stubborn push away from things distracting me from my goals, sometimes anchoring myself to its intuitive pull as it lifts me up and out and beyond any meager outcome I might have settled for.
I am grateful for the innate ability to survive and succeed in the most difficult circumstances. A catalogue of my personal history often makes listeners uncomfortable, angry, sad and afraid. Ah, how to soothe those listeners, who must understand that those situations, harms, abuses and discomforts have not marred me, but instead have passed me through a crucible of concentrated change. I am grateful that I have been able to turn hurt and anger into art or energy towards greater successes. I am grateful that earth is always able to ground me and that my energy need not spike dangerously high.
I am grateful the universe has always conspired to keep me afloat. I am a feral kitten – perhaps born in a domestic setting, but purely left wild in my pen. I am what many children in this world are born as – a unconsidered result of passion, a responsibility unwanted, a mistake dealt with too late. I came here of my own peril, in a rush to manifest and create, and chose, on some level, my parentage. I am no mistake, I’m here of my own making, and I’ve always had a mission as an artist. I have inherent qualifications as a leader, an innovator, a visionary and a communicator, and those require me to serve, and serve well. I was never meant for domestication in the traditional sense, for those confines don’t make room for my wide sweeps of creation.
I am grateful for the dreams of five sons I’ve been having lately. My sentinels, I call them. I have always had a feeling I would have at least 5 children, but lately its been particularly sons. I am planning on great success so I can adopt more, (give some great “mistakes” a chance to bloom), and create of home of artistic chaos, joyous rambunctiousness, mass hilarity, a lovely haven. There’s work to do first, (like making enough money to pay for schools, clothing, housing, nannies, etc, ad nauseum), and my biological clock is pointing with the short hand instead of the long hand. These are gifts I must prepare to receive, my sentinels, for they will be precious.
When I dream on my sentinels, I also contemplate my future mate. It has been difficult to find a man who can handle my explosive energy. I am a live wire. I crackle with energy, sometimes warm and delighting, sometimes harsh and burning. I’m tough, as I’ve had to be, finding my way alone. I bristle, I bite, I bark. Feral kitten again – I’m incredibly cute and cuddly, but those fangs, those claws. Like a cat, I choose when to relate, when to retreat, when to purr and when to hiss. And I watch, all the time, ready to pounce in play or in the hunt.
I’d like him to show up in the next year or two, since we’ll have a lot of work with the family I want to create, the life I will want for us. What do I want? A sexy genius, with a megawatt smile that turns my knees to jello. A man who opens my mind even wider, who can model some behaviors I don’t quite understand, (feral kitten again – domestication and human interaction is sometimes so alien to me). A great talker who can expound on many topics, yet understands brevity and knows the value of silence as well. He can kiss me and make my toes curl, my ears ring and my breath catch. A verbal sparring partner, who never humiliates his opponents, but remains ever noble and gallant in even the most heated argument, (cause I certainly won’t). A natural diplomat, a lion tamer, effortlessly fearless individual that doesn’t see my incredibly wild nature and unrestrained talent a threat, but a thing of natural wonder to appreciate and nurture. Generous of heart, respectful of boundaries, gregarious and physical, affectionate, aggressive, resilient, easy going, tender, trustworthy, faithful.
But these are all definitions, aspects, not the full picture. A man of substance, purpose, vision and passion, who can build a life with me that defies definition or label. Someone who eternally captivates and fascinates me, like a prism, with many facets and inner rainbows. I will be the sun to his prism, reflecting those rainbows on the larger canvas of the world. He will be the arms in which I sleep and dream, the chest on which I rest, the eyes who will see me in many ways and love me more. We will be the apex and omega of each other’s heart, reaching for each other instinctively, always finding inspiration and home in our embrace.
I am already grateful for this vision of what I want. It inspires me to keep a spring heart, to keep forging on, knowing there are rewards and adventures ahead. I’m 37 and my heart still dreams, still glows, still believes in what’s possible. For that alone, I am eternally grateful.
Peace,
Melissa
