ways of looking, seeing, and The Juice
rainstorm, reflection, the erotic aliveness of Nature and beautiful words I read today
Wandering through life, through multitude reflections of tears and beauty, I begin to see how the stirring of our emotional reactions to things, experiences, people and places we encounter, is a signal to us of what we are, deep down, looking and listening out for, whether we realize it or not.
The alchemical bridge between the outside world and our inner world at that moment of encounter and exchange is, I think, the seed of what we ourselves want to distill from our inner worlds to express in the outside world.
-
, author of A Tangerine Moon, in her beautiful kaleidoscopic piece, Through the Other Looking-Glass, and What I Found There
As I read this beautiful, beautiful observation from Suyin, whose writings are ever stunning, I felt that feeling familiar to all readers and daydreamers - when something you’ve known, felt and nurtured within for years, namelessly, was finally put to words by an author you were meant to stumble upon.
Almost everywhere I go, I come back having met my own innermost longings, desires and thought forms mirrored back to me. I could go to a dance performance, and come back feeling unstuck about something my inner painter of flowers needed to overcome. I could listen to an evening of poetry, and come back having received a message about what my erotic inner life has been asking for. I could take a walk in the park, the same one I’ve been going to for over a decade, and come back with a new whisper about what my soul had been looking out for.
As I meandered about that evening, right after a freak summer storm, I revelled in how the walking path was wild and unkempt, and beautifully so. I was pouring love into this sight just the way that I have always yearned to be revelled in, cherished and adored, when I bleed and couldn’t be bothered with appearing pristinely unblemished. I am the feminine, after all, and I love being revelled in, cherished and adored, in all my forms.
Flaming scarlet gulmohar flowers, leaves, twigs and branches were strewn about as though in a composition crafted by the winds. There is beauty even in the way everything is strewn about after intense winds of change, I want to see it. I am always looking for it. I am hinging onto hope that even in the thickest of storms, transformations, I will find beautiful compositions in the mess. I am still living in that mess of life as it was.
The soil is soft, dark and fragrant, wet and joyous like a woman well-plowed in love’s rainstorm. I’m walking on the grass, anyway, although it’ll ruin my pretty sliders, that are so not water resistant. Why am I always thinking of the sun and moon as lovers, the sky and earth as longing for each other? How does everything I ever look at reflect desire, lovemaking and the coming together of God & Goddess in ecstatic, sensual, sexual, erotic vibrancy to me? Why do I sometimes feel like the erotic state is the most alive state of life, turn on is sacred aliveness and interconnection with all there is, and all of Nature is dancing in it, every flower and every bird, everything in this Universe is almost always erotically charged and alive, except maybe us? Or, me?
I don’t know the fragrance notes of petrichor, but it reminds me of sea, earth, herbs and a very gentle presence of ash. I am always thinking of Hades, of the Underworld, and always sensing him in the most unexpected of places. I am always attuned to duality, and I see it everywhere. Is this the Pisces lens of moving through the world?
“The Earth and I are both happiest when we’re watered,” I say to myself. Cold, wet grass tickles the sole of my feet in gentle caresses, and I can hear birds excitedly chirp about the rain. What else could they be chirping about? Surely not about who didn’t post what someone else felt that they’re supposed to be posting.
Right after the first rain falls, there is an energy of slowing down and cocooning in the air, a feeling as though Mother Nature decided to tuck us in a little blanket today. The novelty of the first change in seasons rouses me to forget everything else and simply pay attention to Nature for a moment. And returning to the real, from the digital, is always felt as nurturing and nourishing.
The gulmohars are flaming against the grey sky, and waves of coolness emanate from the wet ground. Every breath I take carries the scent of wetness, of being filled back up with juice. I’ve waited to be filled back up with life force, radiance, creativity, pleasure and everything that I refer to as The Juice, for so long. I’ve yearned for months, just to feel happy and alive again. Everywhere I go, I am looking for The Juice. I still don’t know what it is, or if it can ever be grasped. But I can feel her presence, for seconds, whenever I stop thinking about my search for her. Whenever I am truly, deeply present. A little bit of that juice trickles down my tailbone, deep within my spine, whenever I’m not thinking about what else I “should” be doing today to hopefully, someday become my “best self.”
I saw the prettiest little weed, emerging quite flamboyantly from a mere crack between tiles, blossoming in little buds, spreading uninhibitedly wide, crawling along and romancing this park bench, making it beautiful by her mere presence. She grew there with “You’re welcome” energy.
She moved me, so much, that I clicked this picture of her. And, like Suyin said, I begin to see how the stirring of our emotional reactions to things, experiences, people and places we encounter, is a signal to us of what we are, deep down, looking and listening out for, whether we realize it or not.
Cute ways to support my writing: Just the fact that you’ve reached all the way till the end means a lot.
As an individual in India, it’s been quite difficulty-ridden for me to be able to get paid by Substack, and hence I can’t have paywalls anymore for my writing to be deeply supported. Your presence, attention, comments, shares or nothing at all but coming back for more next time, these are all cherished and valued <3
Dear Oorja, your writing here so exquisitely stirred my soul, that I was called to read it all over again, even more slowly, after reading it the first time. I’m truly so, so moved and honoured to know how my words could, in their own little way, reflect the ever glowing pearls within you that were ready to birth in the form of the beautiful words that appear here.
I loved every word, and all the pictures you painted stirred such an emotional response in me too, especially this one –
“Flaming scarlet gulmohar flowers, leaves, twigs and branches were strewn about as though in a composition crafted by the winds.”
How breathtakingly beautiful! I hope to dream about this palette of colour and dance when I go to sleep tonight.
I also just love how you described walking on a beautifully wild and unkempt path after a freak summer storm and walking on the wet grass with pretty but non-water resistant sliders – I find myself living in cities with unpredictable weather and have often avoided wearing my pretty and colourful shoes that I love simply because I’m afraid of them no longer looking perfect, but that means they’ve spent almost all their lives sitting at home, never shining their colours out in the world. Reading your piece inspired me to start wearing those shoes out to meet nature’s elements anyway, and for some reason, resolving to do this makes me feel a little emotional.
And this story was so beautiful too –
“I saw the prettiest little weed, emerging quite flamboyantly from a mere crack between tiles, blossoming in little buds, spreading uninhibitedly wide, crawling along and romancing this park bench, making it beautiful by her mere presence. She grew there with “You’re welcome” energy.”
I actually spent some time looking at the photo trying to identify the weed because I couldn’t see anything that I thought was a weed, and when I realized it was actually that beautiful flowering next to the bench, it again struck something deep within me. How labels can sometimes conceal the true nature of something, when the uninhibited expression of life itself, in whatever form, is the embodiment of beauty.
I think all that you’ve written here and the way you’ve woven your words together represent for me the essence of the Juice of life.
These were just some of the heart stirrings that surfaced for me reading your words, that I wanted to share too. Thank you to your golden soul for the colours you’ve shone into my day today, and into how I choose to express life going forward :’) <3 <3
Oh my goodness I am speechless, breathless and a melted puddle on the floor. This is so poetic and filled with poetry!! The imagery and the sensual aliveness of this piece is so so so so beautiful!!! I could feel every line in my body, like I was right there alongside you. I could feel the deep stirrings inside of emotion and thought and sensation that comes when a poet takes a walk out in the world. The reference to Suyin’s piece is also so gorgeous. I adore this Oorja, absolutely adore it!! 😌 ✨🌱🪻☁️