You reintroduced this term to me, used it often and found great assurance in your understanding of it. I developed further recognization of it, found disdain for the idea of it and began to further practise decisions on it. I claimed myself to be a rather high individual carrying the deep lows in life in general.
Somehow out of despair, rises the sweet heaviness of beautiful relief. Is the ebb and flow what we feel – our reactions to occurrences outside our control? Or the reality of nature and our perceivement of it?
Your ebb has proven to be the tired, disengaged replica of a toothy snail. Your flow, the drunk in your drink. You release such ebb and flow in this manner. If one feels the flow and ebb, but the other does not, does it cancel it’s existence? Does the stillness in the ebb, furnish the room of flow? So much so, the greater the pullback of the ebb, the stronger sense of flow ?
Is it more difficult to be with someone who ebb/flows at stronger tide or who doesn’t? If both ebb/flows are similar, does it produce larger volumes of efficiency? Does life make more sense together or does ones ebb reflect the others flow and such accordingly so, that an elegant balance is discovered? Only to fall out of sync here and there thus, the supply of flow is full and becomes in demand? Will my ebb and flow tell me about who I am? What will the origin reasons mean?
The ebb an flow of lava, surely is not the same as musty plastic pellets or clear, untouched chocolate milk? How much damage does ebb/flow do? How beneficial, how much can we utilize the characteristics of it? Do some people feel they need it more than others? Are they higher risk of uncommmitance, with greater frustrations? Does it take more to satisfy them?
To label life as ebb and flow hardly seems necessary- yet we bring it naturally into our discrepancies to perhaps exhale some of the repercussions. Ebb and flow is each our own natural state of the now. But is it? How far does natural go, when you preempt the ebb/flow just to feel the lack of numbness?
Is this just manipulating the ebb and floofery? I flow so hard, I ebb.
Sometimes your ebb creates the perfect opportunity for my flow. And when I present with that, my flow dissolves your ebb. And I can’t decide if the term ebb and flow is just a way to describe sometimes our weak ability to accept our excuses.
With weathered temperature, I break down currents whelming from my insides out the clues that can’t speak about the heart any differently. Maybe there is denial or some type of degree of heat that we deny, our experiences weather us with rain and snow or drought. They all have purpose. Maybe because I hold onto my seemingly crushed ego from back in the day that rose my being to cold Antartica. I won’t let go of the heat I feel, but I will let go of my umbrella. I would like to feel it all.
The sun has been feeling me wonders as of late. Spring tends to be the wet and the grey so glimpses of sun I stuff into my eye backpacks and soak into my skin. I teeter on my window ledge to watch the sun rise and I sit on my back balcony when it sinks. Catch the every drop that I can. Mood food.
And the molecules of heat saturate our moods and our skin. A bold presents its invigoration, the liveliness clamps on to belief. Everything feels better here. The lows, not even as low as months ago, are opportunities to show ourselves we are capable of the rise, to enjoy the awakened scenery. Spring doesn’t hold our hand- instead sends us on our way skipping and fresh and feeling full of life.
In order to live life good, goes it have to be difficult? When you are coming from years of a bad habit, to work against it on a constant basis, that’s not easy. And ongoing after ongoing, it just feels like life is just this. Striving to rid yourself of something you accepted. Oh but all the things to know beyond this place. All the things to learn about myself beyond where I am now. Is that the dig dug down fuel? Is that what I believe in?
You are the soulstice to my ever glowing nature. The soulutions I find in my everyday. Your soulfullness resonates in my bones, that warm laundrified fuzzy blanket against bone skin. How soulganic we are in our soulitude. You soulidify so much purpose in my being, that soulving kind of souldier, dedicated not to beat the problems, but to make them understood. The absoulute of my breath, the consoulable feature of all teddy bear grub. My resoulationial feats when I get stuck in mind mud. I’d stay in isoulation with you, fuel ourselves with our gasouline and live in the factual heat. That all of this means you are my soul mate.