There’s this incredible tree, in front of my doorstep, that I marvel at everyday.
I just sort of sit and listen to it.
The way it moves, the way it lets the wind sort of take it and rustle its leaves. I don’t know what kind of tree it is, I don’t know how long it’s been there- but I know that it’s this magnificent organism that’s functioning, breathing, sustaining itself and there’s something about that, that I find incredible solace in.
There’s comfort in knowing that amidst the dis-order, there’s destined order and routine, the kind that doesn’t have any agenda, rather exists to remind you that when anything/everything falls you will still react to the wind, to the demands, to the seasons and you will grow anyway.
Music, but not just any music- the music that wakes up the slumbering soul, the music that suggests you should “go there…” the music that suggests you should stand up, strip down the façade and just. Fuckin. Dance. The music that brushes against nerves and makes the heart pangs flinch into submission, the music that makes your chest cave in and hurt so good. My root is in utmost conviction, loyalty, and unwavering reliability as a friend, as a partner and as a family member. In knowing my damn priorities and not for a minute, second-guessing who and what is important and needs attention or care.
My root tap, tap, taps on my shoulder and says, “you’re going to do that someday….carry on…” my root reminds me that I am capable and intuitive, gifted and prepared.
My root is shamelessly a lover of the vices that make you feel good and in no apologies necessary, My Dear. My root is somewhere amongst the stars and the moon, castles on clouds and neck-bending beanstalks and all the ladders, spaceships, slingshots and time traveling machines that it takes to live in their company. My root whispers; connect, create, CHALLENGE, understand, observe, demand.
My root is somewhere wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with a change of ridiculousness tucked away, just in case.
What does the ROOT of yourself tell you???