Day 34: Flow

Today, I got my period (on time, thankfully). I think it had something to do with the chakra meditation I've been practicing lately. I have begun to trust the 'flow of life's and I guess life is flowing through me.

And that's not all that's flowing. So are lyrics. As of last night, post meditation, a bulb switched on inside me and there were words!

So I did write a chorus with the words "four Paws and a bad limp" and it turned out quite nice, if I may say so myself. But the wonder that I was experiencing today was something else entirely. I was fiddling with my ukulele to figure verses for the Four Paw song, when something else started playing.

There were words, there was Melody, there were chords and a rhythm. I picked up my ukulele and began to sing. And the words flowed through me. At first I didn't understand what I was singing, and for whom. Or from whom. Then I felt like it's a song for me. From the Inner Me. It was surreal.  So I wrote down and recorded the melody for future reference. And it filled me with joy. It was simple, small and nothing spectaular, for a song, per se. But I  felt some blockage being removed and a river of magic flow through me. Yes, there was blood literally flowing down my nethers, painfully so, but I felt a release. And that is reassuring. I want to embrace the flow. I really want to.


The song (I'll put up a recording later):

"Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.

I'm the warmth inside your eyes.
I'm the creases in your smile.
I'm the home you've always dreamed of
Inside.

Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me.
Look around... It's me."

An Ode to my Period

I waited as the clock struck twelve, 

With bated breath and crampy thighs

But Aunty Flo had other plans

And left me dry, with tears in my eyes.

I know I've been a tense little beast

And ignored the alarms to rest

I'd hoped this time, she'd give me a pass

And just add extra soreness to my breasts.

But it's wonky, without the crimson tide,

No surf is up, I'm hurting inside.

I know she's in there, tapping her foot,

Taking her sweet time to arrive.

Dear Flo, I miss you and your brilliant red

I miss the cramps, I miss the dread

Of leaving a mark, of feeling I've stained

Of feeling my bones are made of lead.

I promise I'll be a good little girl.

Self love and healing: I'll give it a whirl. 

Just come back and you will see

That you mean the world to me.

🌹