Letters From The Forest 🌳

Collection of heartfelt poems inspired by living in a Magical Forest.

I dance between my different selves analogue and digital present and numb stuck and otherworldly

It's funny to be them all at any given time and float beyond what I think makes me and see what awaits me as the many selves that I thought to be separate merge into one lump of I

I see that, and I can't help not to cry from laughter what a joke of a guy am I

A mixed-bag, an idealist, an intellectual masturbator, and egocentric exhibit of faults of character and pollutor extraordinaire and more

Damn. How can I be? It's hard for me to see through the shame and guilt of all the silly shit that was so completely unnecessary and yet I did it still, well, not all, in fact, as fear prevented me numerous times from doing all the good stuff I knew I should have done.

What a joke, holy smoke, there's so much wasted potential and even if I'm aware of it nothing comes of it and I keep on wasting it, deliberately, on a daily basis. Good stuff.

Why? Why not. I can. Can I? How could I? I don't really know (obviously, can't even answer a simple question) I just sorta kinda do. Continuously waste potential. It's tragic, really, ironic and funny. ha ha So I laugh and cry at this silly I

It's what I am I guess what I get to work with I fail way too often but I try (well, at times I do) And these parts of me are me, still me, but luckily there's more to what shapes me into this momentary expression of the Universe unfolding through my silly selves

That feeling gives me hope and courage to embrace all the parts and dance together awkwardly, loosing the rhythm, tripping over my own constantly untying shoelaces but perhaps that's okay there's always another day, no – moment, second, this precise one in fact, when I get to make an informed, conscious decision which self to manifest as me in the present and how to be in the world right now and now and now and now ... ad infinitum

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Thank you for the waves flowing from your heart captured so beautifully in the snapshot of this moment that's now in the past

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I see you but it's more of what I feel when I'm with you that makes me want to take care of you for a long time. Enough for an orchard to grow.

I don't want to own you (what a messed up idea that is anyway) but rather be with you and see what would sprout from our symbiotic relationship

You would change me, I can tell And I would change you too nurturing, supporting, and cleaning the wounds we carry from previous relationships

You would never owe me I would never own you

Instead we'd be one: Me and the Land.

About “Letters from the Forest”

I've met you, you're cool, we've a had a good time sharing and exploring what this connection is all about.

It felt good to be with you, and I could sense it was a mutual feeling (or so it seems).

And yet, we lacked something to really connect. A spark... Energy? No. Curiosity.

That's it – I never felt you're really curious about me, and that's okay, because I'm not expecting to be the center of your gravity, but still...

You're leaving me feeling uncared for and that feeling seems to contradict the care in you that I was privileged to glimpse.

And I can't help but feel that it must be me lacking something to spark the care in you that I know exists.

Moments like these made me sad before, but now I know it's just the process of Life unfolding itself. The moment we shared, and the absence of shared moments to come is the perfect thing for the both of us, and All.

At the end, there's space. And space is the most precious gift. So thank you for not being there, and therefore giving space to me.

About “Letters from the Forest”

The wind doesn't care if my vibe is good or not

it blows at night, when I'm asleep, and during the day, completely unaffected by me in it's ferociousness without care for my hope in it's relentlessness

it blows strong and in squalls even stronger according to its own will and unspoken laws

I can be with it and bend to it and work with it but I can never master an element

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It's a Full Moon today and time is right to plant the seeds of intention

It's surprisingly easy, once I switch off noise and pressure to know

Despite all the confusion and running around I already know very well and my heart smiles

Planting seeds is easy the harder part is trust that once in the soil they will sprout to life

But, just like magic, they do. Wow.

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It begins inside Inside the soil Inside the soul the seed begins to grow it's like magic but not magic at all

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Perhaps, and please indulge me, not everything needs to be monetised.

It's counterintuitive, I know. I've been trained, like we all, to look for new streams of revenue promising freedom and security and exponential growth so I keep on looking (subconsciously or not) for another channel of income to flow

It's all oh so appealing but, perhaps, not everything needs to be monetised.

Wait, what about profit and scaling? What about paying for my basic needs? I need to monetise my time, advice, care, talents. It's not only good, it's necessary.

Perhaps. Or...

Is there an alternative way of being? And if not, then can I imagine it to exist? And if not here (I know, it's tricky), then in a parallel world, with no constraints.

Perhaps. Perhaps there is a way. My heart indeed tells me so, even if my mind disagrees.

I respectfully notice your objections, but I've learnt to trust my heart. Mind is too easy to trick and the forces of culture know all the right ways to keep me stuck monetising myself to death.

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Sitting on a cliff, hanging above the waves

beneath the Moon I sip my Fire-brewed tea thinking of you

After all, as you read this words you're here with me (there's more tea in the pot, have some)

you can feel the spice as the night birds wake up with their mysterious cry

We're here together bathing in the clouds and currents being, sitting, breathing as the Universe unfolds through us.

About “Letters from the Forest”

Letting go of you is not easy we've just met and it felt like time disappeared yet you are leaving because of commitments you have made to yourself leaving space for me to be myself again

I don't deal so well with short encounters anymore I'm more of a long-game-space-loving-type-of-person And you're teaching me to let go of what I think and what I know (nothing) which I know I still need to practice.

So, thank you, wholeheartedly, for the space we created. Together.

I'm deliberately hugging you goodbye tonight even if I will still see you tomorrow The night might change how you feel or there might be no tomorrow. I'll stay here with a heart wide open singing with the falling stars feeding the sacred Fire Simply Being. A Rock. Alive.

About “Letters from the Forest” #favourites