From the Fig Tree

The saint is awake when the world sleeps, and [s]he ignores that for which the world lives.

[jamiefinch]

Benediction.

[jamiefinch]

Home.

[jamiefinch]

Patterns

[jamiefinch]

I am the girl whose eyes grew tired of holding light for sailors lost at sea. The girl who walked away from water and into woods, sharpening her gaze with the knife of her tongue, slowly melting under the heat of pressure and touch and time; silver sliding down her legs, soaking the earth with honest words, sprouting precious metals in spring only growing to be gathered by the boys of summer who load their guns and make her count to three. . I am the woman who set herself on fire instead; body blazing like a torch at the corner of a canyon, deep as the mouth of a grave on a new moon night; the woman who ends herself so that someone else buried can begin. Holding hope that maybe now, the lonely living can climb out of what has claimed them; that maybe now, they will finally have enough flame to find their way home.

[jamiefinch]

Liquor

[jamiefinch]

Stop apologizing for all of the ways you spill out over your own edges. . You are here to break your own rules And everything you do is more than enough Because you're better than all that only enough allows. . There are no limits on your living Or your letting yourself be as big as you'd always imagined you could be, . You would be, . You will be. . Not some far off someday But in the very next "now" when you set yourself free To take up every ounce of space you're supposed to. . You will be. . You're here on purpose. Be here on purpose. . This world needs you awake and overflowing So make your mess here. . Spill. (at On Being)

[jamiefinch]

You can't stay up all night -groping around in the dark- waiting for the moment you find whatever it is you believe you're looking for to make it stop hurting. . You exist. . Sometimes it's just going to hurt to exist. Not all times, but sometimes. And those times are the places where the real value of living is stored up. Those times are the well you tap when someone needs you be alive for them -when they've gone dry. It's the hard things that fill you and remind you how to overflow. It's the tension that keeps you limber, the friction that softens your sharp, remember? And only disturbed ground allows anything grow. . So, honey, you can't stay up all night, make-believing you get fight the laws of nature. But I promise if you listen to her long enough, she'll tell you why she waits; She'll tell you why she loves the morning and the moon. . I promise if you listen to her long enough, she'll sing you to sleep every single time you try.

[jamiefinch]

Erotic Intelligence #haiku

[jamiefinch]

Heart: You belong because you're beating Lungs: Because you're breathing And as for the rest of you, For the love of God, You have got to stop shrinking as soon as you notice you're taking up some fucking space. . If you have a pulse You are supposed To be here and don't you dare Let anyone Ever Tell you There is anything You Cannot have. . Because listen to me: You are allowed to sleep naked in your own sheets Spilling out and open Onto silk or cotton or Into arms left open or Any combination of the in between. And you have to unlearn how to apologize for living -before it kills you. . Little girl, you have a right to be here. Consider this your permission slip To cut class and play. Because if there is one thing I know It's that what you fear Will not follow you Into the sun.

[jamiefinch]

She's better than "my summer body" My sometimes body My body for a season only if I earned her . She's my sorrow body My sleepless night body My "let me shoulder this weight with you" body . She's my sinking body My swimming body My gorgeous, courageous, crash and burn body She is my showing up anyway body . Autumn body Winter body Spring body, blooming . She moves and sways and rolls with the punches like the forged-in-the-fires-of-the-earth fighter that she is . She . Is my single body My sexual body My sacred-when-shared body . My screaming body My singing body My silent body . My stronger body My sicker body My shrinking body My swelling body . My sometimes shattered body, She picks up She gets up She summons She stretches She sees . This summertime body is my body for all seasons All sizes All circumstance . She is bolder and brighter and better than three months and heat She, my sunshine body, stardust body She, energy of everything and everyone Who has ever been before She, . Will wear whatever the fuck she wants to the goddamn beach.

[jamiefinch]

And it's my favorite thing about being alive.

[jamiefinch]

Wild and wondrous woman, This world has spread itself before you as a banquet on a table of your own making, and I need you to know- it's okay to be hungry for it. It's okay to be as hungry as you are. -to be ravenous over the possibilities, the potential, the promise of it all. Don't you dare feel ashamed of your glorious appetite, what is cavernous and craving within you. You are here to feast. You are here to be fed and filled and so much more than simply satisfied. . Wild and wondrous woman, Know: You were not given a hunger so that you would starve. // 📷: @pocketsoffilm

[jamiefinch]

Wild and Wondrous Woman ✨⚡️💫

[jamiefinch]

And don't you dare forget.

[jamiefinch]

If you're finding today to be a tough one: Me too. // (Illustration: @bymariandrew)

[jamiefinch]

29 years ago today, I was born just after sunrise. And there must be something about that light because, Here’s a secret: I’ve been awake since 3am. Too excited to sleep, too ready to see the sun again. Too ready to be alive for another year. But finally, actually, really, truly- alive. I couldn’t wait to wake because this is my first birthday I feel I've celebrated with myself, instead of for myself, in spite of myself, or even- sometimes- by myself. I think about this past year and I never could have dreamed of where and who I would be if I had tried. And I mean that. Literally. You can ask my therapist- my brain chemistry couldn’t have done it if I had lived as I was living for a million more years. Trauma will do that to you and the funny thing is: you won’t even know it. I didn’t even know it. Until I couldn’t keep not knowing it because of everything it was becoming to heavy to know. So I made one choice and then another and then another, following coordinates and feeling for whatever pulse I could find. I quit my job. I decided to go back to school. In my studies, I held a magnifying glass up to what had almost ended me three years ago, and called it by its true name. And I was triggered, boy was I fucking triggered. So I got a therapist. And we started digging. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, and everything I have ever wanted was on the other side of it. I started sharing my poetry. I began to create necessary boundaries for myself. I rediscovered how to hold happiness and hope at the same time. I developed the ability to have tangible, bodily experiences of emotions like sadness, happiness, grief, and joy- for the very. first. time. I became a new kind of listener, no longer at the expense of my self. And her— my body, my vessel, my longest and truest and most trusted companion: I learned to love her, to hear her, to honor her in ways I had never known possible. All of that work, all of that struggle, all of that learning gave me a new language; one that allowed me to begin to name her “Beauty”. (Continued in comments below... 👇🏻)

[jamiefinch]

The thing is, though, that my birthday is in three days but I honestly have no idea how the Universe will manage to top this. (at On Being)