The Language of Butterflies – Walking the Path of Attachment with Alysse Aallyn

REGRET feeds DOUBT

As soon as we begin refining our list in search of The One, we are filled with doubt. Fear of Missing Out dictates that even as we are talking to a Possible Soulmate our eyes search out the door to see what new person is coming in. There is a glorious book, essential to artists, called The War of Art (Steven Pressfield) which is actually about self-sabotage. In the very moments when we are trying to build something critically important to our emotional, psychic and spiritual health, a demonic voice comes out of Who Knows Where, whispering, “It’s the wrong thing and you’re doing it wrong.” According to Steven Pressfield, if you listen to this voice you will never accomplish anything, because Honest, Committed Effort is required to get your project off the ground, even if it ultimately fails. And if it ultimately fails, it will turn out to be the very project that helps you see what is Really Important, and understand What to Do Next. Choose wisely; searching for a relationship that is restorative, not exploitative, a partner who is complementary and complimentary, and push doubt aside.

Cloverleaf

Some roads lead nowhere;
They’re my favorites.
I held my breath while
You drew my face in
Blinding strokes
Creamed my mouth with curling lines
Destroyed one picture; then another
Never let me see. You
Left at dawn while I
Ran in circles, calling
Raging, spending blackened
Nights without you,
No blue thigh to guard
My trusting heart while yours looks out
To gauge the coming storm.
Trapped in cloverleaves,
Sentenced to school by
Streams of angry judges –
Balked by
 The enervating past
Of unlived lives
Every face I paint is yours.
Open up the chilly ruffles
Of my breasts
One more time –
To beauty; yours and mine
Electrify your
Eldritch spine –
 Your body so much lighter
Than the mountain that you loved
Better than you loved me –
 The course you learned
Better than you learned me – so
Overconfident that
 you’ll come back
I float across the powdered snow
In bird-winged silence
All-enveloping
Unless I’m
Lost?

Lost and frozen like your heart?