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The Way of the Couch

My friend has a big blue deep, wide couch. I like to sit on it. I like to sit IN it. I like to smoosh to the back of the couch where I feel safe and soft. The couch is so deep that it welcomes me into a far corner where you might never see me again. I might disappear. All the angles and opinions and judgements and self-admonition seep into the softness of a perfectly colored, perfectly textured couch.

The couch is the antidote to my feisty shadow. She is fierce in her control of time and circumstance. She is fierce in her self-punishment for all things not done. Her list of all incomplete goals is long and daunting and never never ends. She demands perfection. I often hear her late at night….”And what next?” “And why haven’t you?” “And you sad little creature with no spine — sit up straight! Make some money! Prove yourself! Why don’t you BUILD A BETTER BRAND? Why do you insist on being so very soulful? Learn the ropes of good enough and make some bucks and stop being so nice." She’s harsh. She’s demanding and she wants product.

That’s why the couch is so inviting. Way way back in the corner of the couch, I seem to breathe differently. I close my eyes but not to sleep. I close my eyes to breathe and feel the contours of my body. I close my eyes to feel the roundness of me, the softness of me, the enoughness of me. I close my eyes to listen to my breathing and my breathing lets me think of lullabies and sweet whispered mamma words. I’ve learned to sometimes whisper those words to myself.

The way of the couch. It’s the only way I get anywhere—at least lately.

Today I said to my pal — "why do anything anymore if it doesn’t bring us joy?" Right? Why try to prove something to a world when all anyone wants is to be seen and loved and celebrated. Why not see and love and celebrate? Why not give the gift of the kind self whenever possible. Why not bring a bowl of ripe peaches or cherry blossoms or a pretty candle or your available self to any gathering and make it better just for having been there with an offering — a simple offering of Self.

My couch self says “Tea please!” “Good conversation please” “Foot massages please” “Dream time please!” “Let’s dream up the next adventure!” I mean I don’t want to spend forever on the couch. I want to set sail and dream big. But I want my journeys to start there — to start simply, to start in love, to start in softness.

I played red rover, red rover too long. I bashed through to new territory because that’s all I knew how to do. I pummeled my own body and crashed through every time limit. I demanded a LOT of every moment, of myself in EVERY MOMENT.

Couch love says “you can unfold into a bed at any time.” Big couch love says, there’s room for 5 people here. Let’s cuddle. Couch love builds no barriers and accepts all who sit. Couch love says "pillows bring dreams and dreams, once talked about with pals, can be tasted." Couch love is always near a good cheese plate. Couch love is sexy and unexpected and can provide gorgeous time out of time romps with husbands or yummy loves. Couch love trumps any bad ass fierce shadow.

It’s the Way of the Couch. Join me?

Big love, Heidi Rose

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