Has been many a moon, since I’ve taken a seat at anything but the Bountiful Table.
I remember the 5 days of not eating in the blush of youth when I was too proud to beg and too stupid to steal, as a long ago Myth that happened to someone else… but no, that was me.
I still have trouble asking for what I want. Still fear those rejections. Will give no voice to that lack of power.
I believe in the collective unconscious of my forefathers; guiding from a force of which there is no understanding, just gratitude.
I don’t fear not sitting at that table however I recognize the lack of joy elsewhere.