My Life

I woke up with a poem in my head. I don't know if that's ever happened. I don't claim to be the next Emily Dickinson (or any poet deemed great by the masses), but it's nice to feel inspired. I didn't write verse for a long, long, long time. I was avoiding any feeling. I was numb. I didn't want to admit any kind of emotion - positive or negative - because I didn't want to admit I felt things. Feelings made me feel weak, in a way. Out of control. But I'm not scared, anymore. I think I may have been afraid of how I would deal with any feelings. I don't know if it's age or yoga (or even a combination), but I feel a stillness inside myself - a softness of sorts. Like I was once rough around the edges, then hardened and sharpened them thanks to fear and cynicism, and I've sense softened. I feel confident I won't lose control, but I'm not afraid to, either. I know that doesn't make sense. It's really a sensation I can't put into words. All I know is that a phrase keeps coming into my head: bring it on!