When talking to the wind
There’s a post I see on Pinterest a lot,
3 feels sweet but, when I was a kid (and sometimes even now if I feel it- if I’m alone) I would run over to the “leaf-portals” (what I called them then), and I would dance inside the leaves it filled me with this overwhelming feeling of joy, like I was sharing happiness with the earth, like the wind was singing with my heart. I feel so happy whenever I think about those moments and I like to think the wind shares my joy.
Dancing alone is a somber thing, when I dance alone I crave others to share my emotions with, I crave companionship.
If I danced before a crowd weaving tales of my sorrows and joys into empty space, only for people to silently stare at me, only for them to clap at the end. The applause would feel empty. There would be no joy in that shallow show of appreciation.
If someone were to come up to me and grab my hand and dance and laugh with me as we wordlessly share our lives with each other…
Does that not sound so much more fulfilling than just to be looked upon?
Of course one will need to dance alone at some point; I dance under the moon, I give myself the feeling of mystery.
Processing and coming to terms with emotions doesn’t always mean sharing.
So when I see the leaves dancing in their circles, in my mind I see a child, a younger version of myself, cheeks rosy from the cold, spinning around in circles while laughing till my lungs hurt.
When I see the autumn leaves I see a figure holding their hand out with a smile on their face, inviting me to dance alongside them.