Can you match my yearn?

Autumn to winter

Picture this: you’re nestled between the bodies of two people you adore, two people you admire, two people you want to be there for because you know they’re there for you, too.

So you’re there, between them, reading your book, and they’re both reading theirs too. The fire crackles and you’re all sitting in a silence that soothes your everything like a balm you’ve recently run out of - this is the only store that stocks it. It’s the night of the last day of autumn, and tomorrow you’ll all wake up and it will be the first day of winter. Thoughts suddenly flock to your mind, even as you read the words on the pages, and they’re not only thoughts but memories. Memories of when your friendships existed on the fuel of gossip and shallow conversation and anything surface level enough to not scratch the top layer of a depth so deep it scares people.

You’re still reading, but your mind is back there, back when you yearned for more but didn’t yet know how or where or when or why or what. Zooming forward to now, this very moment. No gossip, not even chatter, just warmth of the bodies who make you feel safe and seen and heard, bellies full of nourishing food that you cooked together, all engaging in an aligned activity that is individually important and collectively powerful. In this moment, you’re so full of the thing you once yearned for, that you no longer yearn for anything else.

Contentment. Comfort. Safety. Love. Abundance. Connection. Truth. Honesty. Admiration. Respect. Laughter. Kindest. Accountability. Forgiveness. Depth. Fun. Humility.

It’s all here with you now.

So you re-read that page of the book that you just glazed over as the past and reality whirled you into its realms, and the story grabs you. And you stop. You put the book down to go back there, to soak back into those thoughts, because the present moment is the story. It’s the book you want to be reading right now.

And then you each take turns, dozing off beside the fire, lulled to sleep by the silence of friendship, love and the natural hum of firewood crackling and burning in the background. The morning arrives and the kookaburras are laughing you awake after 9 hours of being held and then not, and then held again. What once was your dream is now your reality. The sun is rising outside the window that has condensation from hot bodies resting on a cold, autumn-to-winter transition night. You take a long walk with a hot coffee, alone. Your scarf and beanie attached so the only chance the cold has to kiss you is right on the nose and twice on the cheek. Nature crunches under foot as you walk 2 hours along the coast line, up and down, under and over. You remember why. Why all the moments you’ve ever had were important. Why right now would never have felt so sweet if it wasn’t for everything before. And so you throw yourself in the ocean, the sun alone in the sky, taking a break from its cloud community, warming your body back from shock, and everything is still again. That balm of silence, slathered all over.

And then you realise, joy and happiness comes and goes and then comes again, all in different fonts. And everything changes and then changes again because it is meant to. And that to yearn is to know there is something more. So here you are, yearning again, for someone to match not only your freak but your yearn, for eternity..

Whilst I have you, I’ve put together a winter playlist to enjoy at your leisure!!