“I have become so keenly aware of a deep sense of longing. An overwhelming sense of profound longing. An aching need. … I realized that I have always experienced this longing…[b]ut it is so much more present for me now, I think because my process…gave me a small taste of what that longing thirsts for. For me it is a stepping into an energy flow. Like a gushing river that takes you down the current. It is total and complete connection. A longing for a place where the self is fully the self and at the same time disappears into something greater. On one hand this ache feels wonderful, I feel so alive with it, and on the other hand it feels terrible, i want nothing but to numb it, to feed it something that will satisfy it.”
i found the above in my inbox at 4 a.m. the email continued with questions about my longing. i long, ache, stretch to fulfill my potential, to be who i was born to be, to act with more grace, courage, and generosity. my longing reaches to help others, to ease pain, to be useful. my longing moves me to create peace, appreciate beauty, amplify joy. my longing intensifies in the deepest hours of the night when i’m sitting at the keyboard in the dark, alone, silent. when there are no words or the wrong ones, when everything i write i then delete, that is when my longing becomes unbearable. in those moments, if i remember, i stand up and dance, i write a letter to a friend, i paint, i run with other nocturnals, with possums, raccoons, armadillos, owls, bats, and coyotes.
i write because i have to write. i don’t need to be read. i can delete and burn manuscripts without regret, indecision, or hesitation. but maybe next time i could let at least one other person read what i’ve written before i delete or burn it, because it might make a difference to another, and my longing uncurls to connect with others, to grow, see, and learn with them, to love them. my longing is to love people with my words, my thoughts, my actions. i long to love you better, fuller, gentler.
what do you long for?