Self-Portrait in Words

When nobody's watching and I feel completely safe, I'm always getting lost in something that captures my interest -- it's almost like I can't tolerate being bored, even for a moment. I need music in the background while I work and play, I talk to "myself" out loud quite frequently, I'm always thinking about storylines and telling stories in my mind, sometimes acting them out, like a live roleplay of sorts. I don't hide my emotions at all when I'm alone and safe.

When someone I love is hurt or upset, my first feeling is sharp empathy for them, and a kneejerk desire to ease their pain in any way I can. I don't always know how to do that, and sometimes I wish I could just hug someone tightly to let them know how I want to be their strength for them...but I never can. So I try to be an open heart for them, to listen without judging, to soothe them with words and what little wisdom I have.

When my plans fall apart (and they often do!), my first reaction is an overwhelming wave of despair. It crashes over me, but...after that initial drenching, I step back and immediately start looking for ways to piece things back together, or to replace what's lost or broken. I can be a little impulsive in the decisions I make to try and fix things, but nothing too bad has come of it yet, and I rely on my subconscious observation more than my conscious one, if that makes sense?

When I'm doing something that makes my soul bloom -- like singing, writing, or designing -- I purposefully look for that flow and dissolve into it wholly. I want to feel what I'm doing through every fibre of my being, physical and spiritual, or I don't feel like I'm doing it properly -- and I'm not. It's a mix of release and mastery, but not a mastery over the craft -- a mastery over myself. And not a release of tension, but a release of...caring, so to speak? No worrying about what X or Y would think; this is my creation and the flow matters.

For a moment, let's pretend we live in a world where dæmons exist. Mine hasn't settled, because I don't believe dæmons actually do so -- not in one form alone. I believe there'd be a small handful of forms that everyone's dæmon would favour. My dæemon sits with me in a quiet room. They're in their Arctic fox form, their most common form, but they also have Arctic hare and harbour seal forms. They sit next to me, watching everything -- me, our work, the surrounds. Not tense or anxious, but not lazing about, either -- a gentle sort of watchfulness. They have physical contact with me almost constantly -- be it a paw on my foot, a tail wrapped around my wrist, sitting on my shoulder, resting a muzzle on my thigh.

When I'm around people for a long while, my energy is quite drained; I need time to rest and "reset". I'm usually even physically tired, but not to the point of pain, and my emotional energy isn't depressed or stressed, just more ragged than it usually is. It's like...a dune with footprints all over it from a party of explorers. The wind needs to come through and gently return the dune to its footprint-free state.

When I sense beauty or wonder — in music, light, nature, or someone's kindness -- it's a full-body and full-soul reaction: kind of like a flower of light blossoms inside my mind and I just bask in it with utter reverence. I always want to express it, and usually it comes out in words -- the poetry flows like a river when that flower of light appears. Beauty and wonder are two of the most vital...forces, I suppose you'd say?...in life. I want to share it, I want others to see what I see, I want to express how it makes me feel, and I want to soak in it until I'm saturated.