The Howling

Shelly Aspenson ~ Living Write

I feel her rising up inside me more and more frequently, closer to showing herself each time. I never know what will call to her, or what I’ll do (God help me) when she finally answers. The spirit cries out before the action springs forth. She paces deliberately to and fro within my heart and mind, not trying to find a way out, but pacing…pacing…waiting for me to be aware and willing.

She talks to me in the urge to drive until I run out of gas to see what exists for me there. She tells me not to live the damage I’ve sustained, but instead to devour it, absorb it into us to use as the fuel it’s meant to be~to propel us forward into the wild. She rises up from somewhere deep inside, far beyond my soul, and when we are one and the same~for that breath of a moment~I am…

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Raising the Dead

Shelly Aspenson ~ Living Write

It happens all too often; we allow our lives to empty us. The stress grows without, the pressure builds within, our light fades. We let our responsibilities pack away our joy, and keep it hidden from ourselves until we forget we even carry it within us. We cover our radiance with masks that divert and deflect the attention of the heart eaters, and our intention to nurture self.

“In most of our human relationships, we spend much of our time

reassuring each other that  our costumes of identity are on straight.”

~Ram Dass

We feel our souls, every once in a dark while, clawing to get out. Our lungs fight to expand after being solidified by shallow breathing. If we are brave enough to ask our hearts what they want from us…the answer is “unbind me~set me free”. Our voices are rusty from lack of use when the words are fluttering like frantic…

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Living in Exile~The Return of the Queen

Shelly Aspenson ~ Living Write

I am being called to return from Exile. I don’t even remember the Kingdom that calls to me, only that it does. I’d heard, at first faintly, the call of a world that is not complete without me, a purpose unclaimed, a life not lived to full capacity. The call grows ever louder, the pull in my heart stronger, to abandon my self imposed Exile and step up to the throne I abdicated~the one waiting, empty, in my own soul.

It frightens me, because there are many who do not wish me to reclaim that which is mine. Those who have dragons trained to use fire, and tail, and claws, and terrible teeth to burn, crush, and tear anything that causes them fear or discomfort. If I remain in exile, they retain all the power and benefits that are rightfully mine, those I have never lifted a hand to claim as my own.

I approach the edges…

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