Writing From The Soul - Rescued From The Trash

10 minute writing exercise.....

Rescued from the trash….the first one is always a little hard to get started. Like the engine of my car on these cold winter mornings in Utah. Warming up the fingers…

Rescued from the trash..hidden under the boxes and glad bags and apple peels. What is hidden there? Hiding beneath the other garbage so that no one sees. It doesn’t want to be seen but yet wants to be rescued without saying a word. Hiding but wanting to be seen and rescued.

She is small and quiet and cold and hiding. She doesn’t know if she wants to be found. But she does. She wants to be rescued from the trash, and not be a piece of the trash and more.

Unveiled and unhidden and known and seen. In all her glory. She is love. She is a goddess and she is ready to rise from the trash like a phoenix from the ash trash. Let her out. Let her be seen. Let her be all that she is already. Just peel away the trash from around her and she pops out like a stripper from a birthday cake. Ta daaaa….. Sequins and fishnets and heels shining as she steps gracefully down from the mounds of sweet icing. She is sweet and grace and love and she is here ready to be seen. Ready for her debut!

Rescued from the trash are my writings that almost didn’t make it. Hidden in the verses is my soul. The words just seem to be words until I read them out loud and then I know. It connects me to my soul. The words from when I was 13. Such a strange time in ones life. All hormones raging pimples popping boys looking boobs sprouting. What the hell is going on? The song on the radio says it all. Chicago – If You Leave Me Now….

I knew it was important to write when I was 13 and now I’m glad I have the words to look back on. It’s a path, a story, of feelings, songs, paved with tears and lessons and loves along the way. Travels too. Around the world and back again. New languages, new food, new souls. It makes me whole. I’m getting antsy to hit the road again. It’s been 1.5 months in one place and I’m ready to go again. Feeling boxed in inside the room with the forced air heat to ward off the winter chill of the mountain air.

Gotta get someplace warm. Gotta be by the ocean again. Smell the salt air and feel the open minds of people in California. The mountains are good but not so much when I can’t get out in them in the brittle cold. I’m a warm weather gal. The cold chills my bones and makes them stiff as they wrap around my insides and heart. I need to thaw out. Get out in the mountains of Cali.