Rawness is the Rite
Come Raw. Leave Raw. In the breath between, I learn to stay.
What if we allowed ourselves to come raw and leave raw
needing nothing be finished
simply observing the truth of now.
honoring whatever part of the cycle
we currently sip breath from
whether it be from the flat waters of the ocean
or the peak of the wave within
to trust in the perfection of the ride
the perfection
of the unfolding.
To retreat like the caterpillar into the chrysalis
to rest
trusting the process,
the call now,
but yet
without knowing what will
happen in the darkness,
and once the rebirth brings new light
no resistance
no forcing
of the process '
of the retreat
of the eventual re emergence
not rushing the dawn.
the opposite of urgency and disappointment,
is patience
and allowing,
moving at the speed of trust
which
is faith
bleeding into the space of your being.
its through the cocooning
that we grow
and evolve
the ability to take flight,
to strengthen our wings.
When we allow and honor
the transition
then raw
we can freely Be.
Raw
Like a snail without a shell
But somehow I know
I am going to make it through
Raw
The breeze makes my shoulders quiver
And collapse in
My spine exposed
Raw
My breath sends growls through my center
Each motion
Magnified
Each touch
Significant in its impact
The only thought of comfort offered
to curl up in a bed of cotton gauze
pillows of feathers
Raw
I exist
Raw
I wait
Gentle,
I remember
So
Gently
I will be
Because what other choice is there in love?
Eyes on me
Eye of me
Raw
I will walk
Raw
I will be
As I greet and integrate the me that I meet
Integrate my new
Wings
Lick my wounds
Now my stitches
silk ribbon thread,
a bold royal blue
Each careful, deliberate,
stitch
Where I have sewn myself back together
While I wait for the skin to grow
over the cracks
New growth meeting the cuts
A merging of the seams
Into fluid flesh
I sit here in the sickening nausea of it all
Knowing this is right where I need to be
Knowing that while I am
Weak
Raw
Exposed
I am free.
I am emerging
Whole,
I AM
-That One Honoring the Cycles I AM, Oct 2024 / From the Wisdom of the Paradox
How to actively Be in death and birth. Attending to that space between the death and the resurrection. The beauty of BEing unready. That space also just after the resurrection. Re Unifying my little girl. The black ghost. Re birthing into wholeness I AM. Merging, still torn or in the middle of mending, where I Am still sewing myself together. Unfinished and alive. One October in Ojai. In the breath between death and rebirth, I learn to stay. Forever in process and honoring cycles.








When the wounds turn to scars turn to silk seams, the unbecoming and the becoming all at once. That’s a place I find myself at often.
Thank you for the rawminder 🧵
Loved this, Thank you for sharing