Celebrating

Celebrating a year on my own.  Celebrating the hardest move I ever made.  Cheering myself on for all the ways I have grown, and he has too, Kent, Amelia’s amazing dad. Appreciative for my best friend, no longer my husband. How do we muster the COURAGE to leap when we are called, perhaps have been called for some time now?  How do we step into TRUST that our heart’s longing, for whatever it is longing, is true and will only pave the path toward its experience?  And how can we tell the difference between our heart’s longing and our head’s clinging?  This last question, it may be the most valuable of them all.

The work I do, this is the life I live, putting myself on the edge of transformation in small and grand ways every day.  I am so grateful for all I have learned; how to put myself on this trusting edge over and over again, paying gratitude to the consistent magical results.  Stone soup, fishes and loaves – there is indeed so much beauty and goodness found in even the most dry of circumstances.  LIFE IS all Living Sensual when we learn how to step in.

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alone-but-happy
alone-but-happy

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REVERBERATIONS by Piper Lauri Salogga, May 2013

The crowd of excitement flows, the libations, the hopes for salvation from what, I wonder, is the greatest angst against the pranks of life that call? What does it mean, all this sweaty, loud culmination to the lascivious vibration against this strong, steel incantation?

Too green, too old, too stiff, too bold, bring him home, or not, to see the fuller me or hide, slow rot.  Sardined smiles nod to my heart in two when the gem comes through – that humming far inside, the soft one new, the soft one knew, could see true and too scared, nervous laugh, to act on his own behalf.

I’ve never written rhyme before; coming from the night adorn when the young were living in my head and I was watching them instead of the sleep and the dead inside…  they still have their hearts to play in the midst of hope and the drowning of prayer…  still holding to dreams, the visions, no attention to the seams ripped apart by story after story, invisibly sewn back in this glory, however temporary.

Sweet life, I did not think I would see this side, where coming home alone, alone to my sanctuary, was a blessing not a sign that I had gone astray. Wisdom in the midst of wanting, everywhere, everyway I look is the gift of the years gone by and those stories left aside – celebration of a me aligned, me alone, me just fine. Rips do bring the fruits of good wine.

to living sensual, xo Piper