Why would anyone want to lose control?
When we live in a world that teaches us–
that encourages us–to gain mastery over every part of our lives.
With self-help sections of bookstores and libraries bursting with guidance.
And every one around us offering advice on how to fix our lives to perfection.
No one tells us how to free ourselves from our own constraints.
From our own judgements and reprisal.
No one wants us to be untethered and careless.
We fit in best when we match the routines surrounding us.
When we follow the rules of order created by others.
I know because I constantly battle to free myself creatively. To take risks. To be bold.
And to journey into an unknown that is both terrifying and exhilarating.
Perhaps it’s harder because I do love order. I love to have my things easy to find. In great condition and useful.
I enjoy feeling in control. I am proud in my mastery of daily living. And I also do enjoy the recognition from others.
But wanting organization cannot be the same as freeing your soul to enjoy the best of life.
Or is it?
Right now I desire to feel the truth of nature. Of my nature. The recklessness of losing myself in time and space.
Without worry. Without regret. Without guilt.
Where others let go of their expectations of me so I may discover my own uniqueness. My own truth. The harmony of my soul with life.
I am on a journey and haven’t yet arrived.
I am not ready to unpack my bags and stay put.
I seek new frontiers of experience. New vistas to challenge the creativity that lies, buried in the recesses of my soul.
What will it take to free me? Perhaps in my quest there is no answer.
There is only action. And actions taken will lead me further down the path of discovery.
The path to who I really am. And all that I may be.
By Tessa Saks
As your apprentice, am I legally bound to learn about love
from you–the master craftsman of desire?
Have I learned enough to make my way in the world
and cut the ties to the network of support
you give. Support that removes the doubts and fears
from my restless imagining
and leaves me free to envision a love
that is strong enough to endure all the many
challenges and setbacks that life weaves into the fabric of our nature.
Am I more than an apprentice? Have I evolved to surpass all that has been shown
and given? Am I not ready, now, for love? For real love that doesn’t harbor excuses or complaint.
A love that understands the words not spoken and releases the guilt of further heartache.
I am ready to move past the learning and failures. Past the rejected attempts for approval.
For I am now beyond you.
I have evolved past obedience and am ready for love that shares beyond the borders of greed and righteousness.
Ready to open my heart to the swelling tide of rapture without regret. Compassion without pity.
I am whole. A renewal of the bitter pieces made complete. And I have you to thank.
My patient and relentless master. The guidepost of my journey. The one who allowed me to fail and rebuild and rediscover
the joy of independence. The pleasure of self-fulfillment and determination.
Could I have risen so far without your steady support in my frailest hours?
I know the answer well. And so I thank you and bid you farewell.
For I am complete. I am whole again and ready to embrace the winds of love and all it’s storms.
Ready for the risks and danger that opening my heart exposes me to.
Waiting, in eager anticipation, of the endless possibilities that now lay before me.
And excited by the untapped potential to journey beyond my safety and discover
along the way
the many facets of love.
By Tessa Saks
Zip my heart shut tight, so it can never be opened again. Never exposed to the rawness of love and
all the encounters that chip away its strength. For I am damaged. In need of repair.
Desperate in my fragility to protect. And preserve
the fragments that remain and
remind me of you.
Of our love. Of all the nights of endless honesty and freedom that somehow dissolved
into a mask of hurt and indifference.
I lost you. In my selfish search for approval I sacrificed the most important
part of who I am. Of what I had been. And silenced the truth that united us beyond our flesh and fantasy.
We were one. We shared a bond that seemed forged for eternity. How was I to know how easy it could be fractured?
How could I know that the wedge of destruction is silent and efficient as it slices apart the memories…
laying them bare when the damage is complete. Beyond repair.
Leaving me with only my regret for comfort. And only my shame for solace.
I miss you more than I loved you. That is the shame of it. I never knew what we had until I felt the stinging of it’s absence.
And despite the years that will fall away into this well of darkness,
I remain. Forever scarred. Seeking reprieve from this miserable heart
that continues to hope
in foolish vanity
that one day
I can find the courage to unzip this heart
and love again.
One thing I never considered in the self-reflection of my passions–is their relation to greed.
Am I greedy?
Guilty as charged.
I declare my avid love of books. Of art. Of history. Of beautiful objects. Of costumes and fashion history. Of flowers and trees. Of oceans and beaches. Of babies.
Of living. Of loving.
I enjoy indulging in all of these and more. And my appetite never wanes. I can never have enough. My sensory overload is limitless when it comes to my desires. I seem to gain energy from my longings. They charge with pleasure in multitudes of ways. I become more. More connected. More loving. More joyous. More forgiving. More tolerant. More compassionate. More creative. More of the real me. The one free from the expectations of others.
I need only to think about the these loves of mine and I am happier. And when I experience them firsthand–happier still. I am boundless in my cravings.
And like an addict, they seem to grow. Enlarging my appetite for more. Opening space within my soul for new experiences and opportunities. There is never enough. Never an end. Never a feeling of completion. For this is an onward journey, expanding the horizons of my soul.
And so I am also greedy. My insatiable demand for more is endless. And despite what others may think or say, I will continue forever in my quest to relish in the richness of life and all the encounters that lay before me.
I am evolving. And avid. So very very avid.
But the bigger question I wonder is:
Are you avid and greedy too?
To Be Romantic or Not To Be
In The Style of Will Shakespeare
To be romantic or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the soul to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous passion,
Or to take arms against a sea of desire,
And by opposing end them?
To think: To control;
To rationalize: And by rationalize to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural desires
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a discipline
Devoutly to be wish’d.
To think, to control;
To control perchance to prevent heartbreak: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that protecting from heartache what love may we miss
When we have resisted opening to the beauty before us.
Must give us pause: there’s the regret of long lost loves
For who would bear the whips and scorns of rejected love,
The risk unbalanced, the outcome failing,
The pangs of unrequited love: None but the romantic.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
Save for the romantic.
The romantic that enterprises of great pith and moment
And in this regard their currents turn awry,
And win in the name of love.
Bt Tessa Saks and Will Shakespeare
In The Style Of
There is a border that keeps love safe. A wall that protects us from pain.
We stand behind it waiting to see when to let down our guard. And when we can trust that expressing how we really feel is safe.
Why are we so afraid to be hurt?
To say how we really feel?
Can it be that we do not trust others?
Or is that we do not trust ourselves?
That somehow, deep within, we are unsure of ourselves and need to hear from someone else first.
Need to know that we aren’t way offside. Or crazy.
That what we feel is shared. And mutual.
Before we open up and make a fool of ourselves
we test the water.
We wait in safety behind the border, for the clear signal.
And then…only then…can we let go and release the pent up feelings. The longings.
Like a force braced for an eternity, the desire explodes from our innermost soul
to free us from the repressed passion that tortured us beyond measure.
With euphoria and joy, we captivate all around us in the pleasure of finally allowing who we are and what we love to be revealed.
And the border that held us in…incarcerated love that could never be revealed. Now, finally freed.
The wonders of being who we really are and loving with fierce devotion, our blessed one.
Our kindred soul.
Our eternal love.
By Tessa Saks
I am so lost
In the black depths
Of the nights of love
That I can no longer tell
Dream from reality
And I pour on it my own tears.