Hot Stone

It is just past midnight. I noticed light streaming in through my bedroom and went outside to gaze at the moon resting in the low sky.

The full moon just passed, but it still glowed. I started seeing sparkles and illuminated dust in its aura. Was it truly energy flowing out or were my eyes getting dizzy? I stood sinking to the earth.

My sensations and feelings don’t make sense to me. I ask myself directly: what do you feel right now? I don’t know. What if I knew?

It doesn’t feel good – scared, insecure, cold, alone, lost, guilty. A heavy, concave feeling in my heart, my throat, my jaw. Uncertainty. Pressure. Anger, shock, the urge to explain myself. But there is nothing to be said or that I am allowed to say. Restricted because I can’t go back to change me or control them.

The hot stone has been thrown to me and I am forced to hold it and let it burn my palms. Drop it. Let it go. It’s not mine and I don’t have to hold it anymore. I never had to hold it. Release it.

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