Human. Animal. Mortal.

Today, I do not wish to be a queen. 
I do not want to be a priestess, or an empress, or a goddess. 
I do not care to be a shaman, or a healer, or a visionary. 
Indeed, in this moment, I do not desire anything that delivers me beyond the banal, the profane, the everyday. 

Right now, I release my hold on that which makes me special, exceptional, or remarkable.
For today, I just want to be human. 


That’s right. 



For now, I want to get intimate with the realities of the quotidian, the responsibilities of the routine, the truths of the terrestrial. 

I wish to sit, fully present in my imperfections, embodied in my faults, and in conversation with my peculiar bipedal truths. 

I desire to be seen in my very real and vulnerable dual nature, in that which makes me rather commonplace and mundane. 

Betwixt any past lives, archetypes, and altered consciousness, between any channeled wisdom, soul councils, or spirit guides, I am here in human form, as raw and rudimentary as the next. 


Sometimes it feels rather simple to treasure the glory and divinity, the spirit incarnate.
To relinquish the treadmill for the thrill.
To value the extraordinary over the ordinary. 

But I want to be able to cherish the human form just as deeply and as passionately as the immortal soul.
To delight in the average just as much as the sacred.
To be whole in the wholly humdrum. 


So right now, I choose to arrive as a human being, a creature of the flesh living an animal existence on Planet Earth in the year 2016. 


I choose to show up to the basic, the practical, the matter-of-fact—and not make it anything more.
I choose to hold the errors, the insecurities, and the run-of-the-mill—and not seek to make anything different. 
I choose to be with the sacrifice, the loss, and the struggle—and not try to make sense of anything. 


If only for today, I am human, animal, mortal.

And that is more than enough.