Forces Inside of Me: A Loving Reminder of Possibility.
I wish I could fly. I wish I was a stealth bird in flight high above the world where I could hear the strong pulsing of my wings and sing into the wind letting each note dissipate into the clouds.
I love the silence and what a perspective it would give to know how small I was, yet capable of movement through the stars. I love my mind, how endless it spins tales and transcribes information. I love my heart, how large and seemingly insatiable it is to the experience of love, desire and longing.
I am trying to love the incessant dichotomy of being intensely pragmatic and passionately idealistic.
I can be so focused on achieving goals and building a sense of pride through accomplishment, yet I can also rise into the landscape of dreams that fill my body with sensations that take me out of this realm of reality.
Every day I fight to love that battle inside of myself that dictates my actions and guides my path through this world, but many days I exhaust myself in the quest of balance. To honor the voices within me that require attention and demand energy is quite a task for my inner warrior.
I’m not sure that I will ever find lasting peace, but I am fighting to find peace in the chaos of the many moving parts and deviant characters that make up who I am. There is an inherent complexity to being fiercely alive and this body of mine both limits and enables me.
I’m always falling short of myself, always falling short of what could be, and still the sky’s boundaries span endless and taunt me to strive for more. Push harder. Reach further. Don’t ever stop moving. Don’t ever stop loving. Even when it hurts, use the pain to create more compassion.
I’ve always been hard on myself, but have learned to appreciate the light and strength I’ve proven to myself that I have, and with that ability I’ve become more keen on absorbing and appreciating the beauty around me.
I’ve also learned to appreciate my weaknesses, my darkness, and I understand that tears are not necessarily a sign of defeat, but sometimes the only way to keep my heart from drowning.
I’ve built my life around collecting priceless treasures through meaningful connections, life experiences, traveling, making mistakes, painful introspection and I try my best to use it all for continued inspiration and positive purpose.
These forces inside of me are too grand for my stretch of skin to contain and without the deliberate extraction of this energy through all means necessary, I’m quite certain I would combust.
So instead, I choose my explosions or they choose me. I dance, write, sing, play, love and make questionably creative messes. I splatter myself on canvas and run until I collapse. I weave my heart in and out of sentences, miss punctuations and make up words.
I need to know that this fuel is being used for whatever meaning I feel I have in this life, for if not, that is the point where my spirit begins to decay. So, I just keep moving. If I play my cards right, maybe one day I will fly.
After all, it is not the guarantee that keeps me going, it’s the possibility.
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Tiffany Bisconer is a bursting-hearted lover of all things passionate and is quite intent on squeezing the most out of her life’s potential. She is a bona fide beauty connoisseur with an exceptionally hungry brain, and has become quite accustomed to fighting for some sense of equilibrium between a complete surrender to dreamscaped idealism and the stubborn tempering of pragmatism. In her attempt to quiet and express the oft urgent and clawing desires of her being, she dances, sings, photographs, writes, paints, loves or otherwise finds some manner in which to siphon the voice of her heart. You could connect with her via her blog or Facebook.
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