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The Spirits Are With Me Here

In this place of creative magic.

By Kaia Maeve TingleyPublished about a year ago 4 min read
The Spirits Are With Me Here
Photo by Grégoire Bertaud on Unsplash

My back arches with pleasure as my body grows warm.

The dark ground is moist and fragrant. The nearby fire throws sparks up against the sky. I arch my back, my eyes reaching up towards the sky to sense the incredible curve of my spine where my back turns into my wide, round, juicy ass and hips.

I feel fluids rushing through my body in a million different directions. In this moment, I am vibrantly and most decidedly alive.

I am the most beautiful creature I can possibly imagine, I dare think to myself shyly. I feel exotic and beautiful, power emanating from the light within my core.

But now, my animal body is hidden. Concealed. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be, and I don’t yet know what I WANT to be. But I’ll get there. I feel entirely alone, though I know I am eternally connected. And it couldn’t be more perfect.

Gratitude wells within me.

Out there right now, all of this is buried deep within invisible layers of prisons crafted from veiled threats to my pleasure. Shrouded, but ever-present nails and thorns and knives I fear will cut any tender part of me I dare to bare. I’m terrified to let this luscious being I inhabit catch a scent of the dawn. And I don’t know why.

Out there I’m an oyster. In here, I have this secret pearl.

One day, I thought to myself. One day I’ll be perfect. One day I’ll be brave. I’ll allow myself to show a little bit of my glow. My shine. My fucking supernova I’ve got hidden under the covers over here. I’ll open up and take flight and explode with all this pent up lifeblood I have pressurized within me. I don’t even know what the tipping point will be, honestly. I just know that I’m close.

Closer and closer all the time.

I just have to not think about it too much.

The tendons pull pleasurably in my upper thighs. I squeeze and pull on my skin. Breathing and moving my body to stretch and bring blood and circulation to all my sacred parts. I undulate. I flow. I know the truth. I just don’t know how to speak it yet. But I don’t worry about it. I keep moving. I keep moaning. I smell the ground.

One day I could be perfect. But I could give a flying monkey feather about all of that now. Perfect is exactly what you make it to be. I'm there, without the need to move an inch.

The blood is pumping through my veins. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. My skin feels warm and fertile. I can feel the heat of the flames along my back. My head is cool and my thighs soak up the heat. In the trees above me, the hoots of a hidden barn owl make round, soft, liquid noises in the night.

That thing about… what other people think of me. What other people want from me? Silly people. Don’t they know we’re all connected anyway? Don’t they know we’ve all just forgotten who we are? I need nothing from the others.

I raise my voice and howl at the beautiful silver moon hidden behind a scudding illuminated cloudface.

I remember.

I can feel the electrical pulse of nature flowing in the roots beneath my knees and palms. My fingernails dig in the cool dirt. The wind blows over my skin. I feel my warmth pulsing into her caress. The spirits are with me here. In this place of creative magic. Every breath bringing me closer and closer in communion with nature. I am never truly alone.

No one is.

I have no need to reach the end of this trip. I’m content merely to travel. I writhe and smile and breathe, finding pleasure in my body.

This is no dream. Well, beyond the fact that we are all the dream. And the dreamers. The weavers and the web.

I’ve found that perfection exists at each moment along the way. There is no place that isn’t perfect, actually. All points an experiential marker in our adventures here on this planet, in these bodies. Everything we go through is part of the whole of the whole of the whole.

It’s us being us, how we all choose individually, that makes this whole thing real in the first place. And of course, paradoxically it’s all about us finding our way back to ourselves by learning to love one another and our relations to nature.

But that’s another episode, my friends.

So I could tell you to relax, but that’d be hypocritical. Relaxation is not the name of this game. Tonight the point is to be embodied, and fully present, amidst ALL the sensation the divine in density can throw us up against. To just touch this current is sublime in and of itself.

Laughing at all this help to ease any pain that may flow. It turns the pain into movement and merges it with the river of all sensation.

I settle my happy warm body down, energetically circling like a wolf looking for the perfect place to curl up into perfection. I used to dream of being perfect. But it feels like perfect has today dreamt of being me. The fire glows orange as little flames lick along the big logs I set for the night.

I am most content. I breathe a deep sigh and send my energy into the earth.


About the Creator

Kaia Maeve Tingley

Kaia Tingley is a writer, artist, podcaster, digital strategy nerd, and sometimes hot-tempered supernova with a wild, free soul.

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