Feeling, deeply

I never understood why adults aren’t seemingly allowed to use swings. For their pleasure or just to while away time.
It was time. Time to take my ink, the paper, my diary and the camera, and walk out. It felt liberating because I know I would leave as a strong, free woman, and they would stay in the prison shaped by their own tyranny, in a small world.

Almost instinctively I sought out a swing, and found a black panther lurking nearby. I pushed myself back and felt the wind on my face, the gentle warmth reminding me what life is all about: feeling.

I feel again, deeply. With this, surrounded by the countryside and towns of my beloved Herefordshire I create, more than ever, with much more depth and passion.

A week later, I put up my words, two angels and three letters, on a piece of soft, pink string. A reminder of who I truly am, and why I chose to never allow anyone to dim my light {or dark} again.

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