what about moving slowly? says the wild girl, what about methodical? what about it? why not crash and careen toward my dreams?
ah, silly girl, beams the wild woman i suddenly seem to be
who taught you to dream at light speed? who taught you to forget how to breathe? who taught you not to enjoy the process? the step by step? the here, the now?
for what it is you want takes time. what it is you want take presence, and stillness of mind. from stillness grows such mindfulness and, with a mind full of steadiness, only then will dreams become conquests, not simply etchings in the ethers.
where i am still wild, still young, and still free, i am calm, focused and measured, equally.
growing up hurts less than i imagined.