instead of keeping on
with the human interaction experiment,
I started saying no
and dropping out of the game.
It was so gradual,
I didn’t notice when self-care
turned into hiding.
Separate became a theme song,
playing on repeat
on the radio in my head.
Prone felt better than upright,
cozy felt better than cold,
alone felt better than awkward,
and predictable became a slow slide.
The blood began to thicken.
I told myself that I was refusing
to be food for the energy suckers.
What’s new?
I’m ankle deep at the surf’s edge
where
the water is cold,
the air is worse,
but the alternative is only for the bears,
and only in one season.
Spring seasons return,
and probably will again,
but I won’t wait
for it to come to me.
Motion is required
for the body,
but more so, for the mysterious heart,
which can’t be met
until I show up.
Life as Improv 
Oh I love this. I totally relate to being very very fussy about who you spend time with, and often better to just be alone. On the other hand we must engage with the world for better or worse. It’s where the lessons in tolerance and surrender are. And also where *life* is!
Alison xo
It seems another paradox, argh, since I agree, being fussy about one’s company is a valuable tool. I learn on either side of the balancing act. It means the world to me that you reflect the learning in me. Big squeezes sent into the field we share! xx
❤
I can identify, being, by nature it seems, a hider.
But also, people have seasons. And seasons aren’t
mistaken. Maybe your season of solitude has just
come to it’s natural end. For this cycle.
Yes, perhaps the recognition that one season is over and another is beginning is the discomfort just before the shift.