troublemakers

Your Stardust, Radiance And Splendor: I Want To See The Real You.

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I want to see you.

I want to see the real you — the actual you — the alive you.

I’ve seen the you that’s afraid to leave that job you hate, the you who’s convinced that not much is worth anything. I’ve seen that you, a lot, and you know what? That you deserves a break.

There’s a crack in that you, and — can you feel it? — the fingers of your soul are grasping its edges and prying it open. Because that you wants nothing more than to crash at your feet in a crumble of dust and silence. Facades aren’t meant to last a lifetime.

Oh, and when your soul is revealed, when you are unclothed and resplendent, the wolves will throw their heads back and howl, the lions will drip tears, and the corners of the hawks’ eyes will be wet.

We’ll get lost in each other, tumbling around the world inside your head and the forest inside your body.

You won’t tell me that we are made of stardust, you’ll show me.

We’ll meet at the place beyond surviving, the place where there is a crack in the fabric of the Universe,

And the closer we move to it,

The more it starts to separate, divide, and expand,

separate, divide, and expand,

over and over,

until we are surrounded,

and we see that all that separation —

was no separation at all.

You’ll reach your hand in the air and grab one string out from the web of magic that surrounds us, and I’ll sit like a child at your feet and watch as you weave a new reality made from just this string and your rebellion.

Your enthusiasm will make me drop my head back and laugh with delight. Your passion will make my breath catch in my throat. We’ll teach each other to be brave.

Will you do it? Will you meet me there? Will you allow me to see you?

This is what I want. More than anything, this is what I want.

And if you do, I will put my palms up and turn my face to the sky. I will bathe in the light of your radiance and I will catch your ecstasy in my hands.

So what’s next? If we see each other on the platform, waiting for the train, will we lock eyes, join hands, and jump into the next dimension? Or will you drop your gaze, rest your chin on your fist, and decide, one more time, that it’s not worth it?

This is the only request I will ever make of you. All I’m asking is for the greatest gift you could ever give me.

Show me your splendor so that I may find mine.

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Hannah Harris
Hannah Harris grew up in the pure mountain air of Lake Tahoe, NV. She is now a Yoga teacher and writer in San Francisco. She believes the the single best thing any of us can do for the rest of creation is find the time to truly know and then madly love ourselves. Find her on Instagram and Facebook, or read more of her thoughts at Wayfaring Gypsy.
Hannah Harris