“I cannot have a man who is afraid of everything…who is standing on a stone by a creek, watching for the fish to swim by and every time he sees a fish he says “Oh look, this fish scares me, I wonder what this fish means, this fish might mean- this, or this fish might mean- that” for God’s sake, they are just fish, and they don’t mean anything! Such a sad thing, so many fine, strong men standing on top of little stones, pointing at fish all the time! Such a waste! Such a waste of time! I can only have a man who will leap into the water, not minding the damn fish and whatever other little things that scare him.” ~ C. JoyBell C.
The days are getting longer and warmer. The afternoons linger and the evenings ask questions. Sometimes they bring songs. Wishes, always young and daring, flutter their eyelashes as they awaken, and tickle the edges of our souls. Thoughts, like little children looking for hidden chocolates, come to stand by our doors and windows, blushing with eagerness for a lovely surprise.
It is an exciting and dangerous time of year.
When I was a little girl, the only person who talked to me about fairy-tales and prince charming also happened to be a very strong, opinionated, independent and sharp-witted woman who didn’t miss a thing. And yet she was such a girl. A little girl even in her mid 70’s.
I’ve been thinking about her a lot over the past few days, and how she was not so odd after all.
Because I too found that the strongest, most interesting women can afford, and also require, a significant measure of romance and playfulness in their lives.
The real kinds of romance and playfulness…the kinds you use to paint your wings with rainbows just because. The kinds you dance with and belong to without ever losing yourself…yet always beautifully and gratefully surrender to. The real kinds that make you smile, and also make your soul smile.
Interesting how the more you do not need something for practical reasons, the more you actually do need it for reasons of the soul.
The lady who told me all about fairy-tales and prince charming so didn’t any rescuing or magic. She rescued herself, and she WAS magic.
Like everyone else, she too carried fears. Yet she was not afraid. And neither was her prince charming, the man she had shared her life with, the man with whom she exchanged those love letters tied with beautiful ribbons found after her death.
That’s why they worked. No dance or happiness can ever work if people stand alone on top of little stones, not leaping into the water, wasting time mistaking the absolute need for magic for a weakness.
Yes, it is an exciting and dangerous time of year. Such thoughts and conclusions that come…
Spring tends to bring perspective. It is after all fresh, bold, impertinent in its beauty. It seduces our senses and awakens everything. Something inside us begs to open. And we can not quite remember the reasons why this something can not or should not open.
Not surprising. We do need beautiful, real, intangible things for reasons of the soul. And we all know which ones those are.