Esjay

Esjay – USA

Cold hard metal against my shaking hands, the tip-toeing dancing pads of my feet. I was excited and happy. Thankfully, I had the warm rush I was counting on. Teeny tiny vibrations. Everywhere. Like bounciness at the atomic level. I imagined the billions of electrons in and around me buzzing and bumping around, greeting each other excitedly to create warmth.

I was distracted by my quivering jaw, the twisting and tightening cold against my skin, all surfaces of my body exposed to the elements. I had a strong and sensible desire to be warm again. But I wouldn’t dare let this moment be stolen by the weather. No, this was too special a time for my thoughts to be occupied by such predictable and familiar sensations…I wanted to dig deeper to discover what was hiding beneath it. So I focused. Focused on emitting that happy hot excitement to the surface of my skin to rise as steam and beam from my eyes.

Tingling all over, I pushed past the cold and saw the beauty of my setting. Rust and red. Bare iron and the remains of its red paint shield. Function and form. One day, this wheel scooping water, the water pushing the wheel. My wheel, rotating still, on this old relic of energy capture. Still doing its trick, it pulled me right in.

I felt honest. Before, during, now. Why share in this bold manner if it isn’t honest? But how to honestly convey all that I am in one frozen image, one interview, one essay? I’m relying on trust. Trust that what I’m sharing is relatable. Though I find moments of ecstasy experiencing what I believe to be my uniqueness, I find comfort and connection, something like “a reason for it all” by discovering my similarities.

What a gift. To be open and honest and have others relate to that honesty; to feel connected to another’s spinning, twirling, radiating insides. Giving of yourself plainly so you can be plainly received. Not expected, but a pleasant surprise. Like life. I never could have imagined what an amazing experience it is to be alive.

I was smiling, not just for the camera, but inside. Looking around, a flock of birds in the sky, tangled vines in the trees, water rushing behind me. Focusing on bark and branches, the grubby surface of the worn metal, specs of green, whisps of clouds, craggy boulders…and then letting my gaze go fuzzy, seeing nothing more than my inward smile. Smiling now with the sheer joy that I can see. And be seen.

Seeing my image captured, I felt immediate acceptance. Like what I imagine a mother might feel upon first inspection of her newly born child. Instantaneous love and compassion for this being, though they’ve just laid eyes on each other. I didn’t see what I had imagined I’d see. I appeared different than the me I dress in the mirror, the private me. I thought of the Odalisque, not an image I ever associated myself with; the softness, the classic femininity of a past era. But in a single moment all is unchangeable. All is as it is. Frozen. There would be no changing form before we continued on. No way of transforming into the image I recognized in my minds eye. No, I wasn’t going to see anything different in the end than what I was seeing right then. I accepted that. Quicker than self acceptance has ever come to me. This instantaneous feeling was the biggest lasting impression of the embody experience. My utter acceptance of me. My physical form made of my vibrating cells, my spinning thoughts and pulsing energy giving shape to this body; revealed on a red wheel.