Losing your way. Losing your mind. Losing your balance. Losing your virginity. Losing your heart.
So much to lose.
Look for the path under your feet.
Dizzy with fear that it is lost to the moss covered stone and the undergrowth of twigs and leaves, the daily debris.
Return to that curlicue of a worn trail, the one laid down in your primordial memory before the patterns began.
Hear the sound that underlies all noise.
Embody the movement that precedes the habits we unconsciously collect – one shoulder carried high, the jaw jutting forward.
Accept the heart’s basic yearnings, those that exist before and beyond being better or more – the larger house, the thinner body.
You are lost. Know that.
And yet peel back the skin layer by layer and there is the answer –
Pulse. Breath. The path.