I AM FREE I am all the colors intertwined I am the dirt in my hands, the scuff on my knees I am the sun in my eyes I am everything in the stillness.. it feels like home I am bursting at the seams ! I am endless I am human and spirit I am everyone's darkness, just as much as I am my own My wavelength is nothing; I shine upon myself with light, and the lines blur - as new waves form I am messy & thoughtful & chaotic & absolutely gorgeous --My writing from the amazing call last week. It's lots of metaphor; I've often acknowledged deep in my soul that the universe *knows* I love a metaphor. It all feels just right 😊 Grateful to share in this space with you wonderful people 💕

From Silence to Soul— The Radical Act of Being Fully Human I am always free. But I’m not a formless spirit floating without incarnation. My freedom lives in the body. It’s not an idea, it’s a sensation. A remembering. Felt in breath that rises in my chest, traveling down my spine, touching throat, hips, arms, and hands, anchoring me through my legs, feet pressing into the ground. Into my humanness. The most radical thing I can do is to remember I have a body. I am one, a whole universe held inside me. To be free, I need to accept the mess, the mystery, the beauty, the ache of humanity. Freedom is honoring my lineage: my parents, grandparents, all who came before me. Not just for their triumphs, but for their defeats and vulnerability. They left me homework, unfinished parts of themselves: shame, silence, the fear of being seen. I grieve the pain they could not name. I honor the dreams they never claimed. I carry what’s trueand alchemize what’s not. I no longer perform for approval. I choose what is real. I’m not here to escape my desires. I’m here to own them, fully, tenderly, fiercely. Because neither avoidance nor anxiety ever protected me from heartbreak. They only delayed the truth: I was breaking my own heart through numb silence, not knowing what I really want. I had to go looking, descending into depths inside me, where true desire whispered all along, waiting to be felt, named, claimed! This path isn’t about bypassing life. It’s about anchoring so deeply in my body that I finally feel: I. Am. Free. Right here. Right now. In my skin. In my sensations. In my truth. Let’s stop fucking around. Let’s fuck for real. With life. With truth. With soul. Brigitte Wittmer May 29, 2025 https://substack.com/inbox/post/164697262

There’s a wild wind walking in my bones, A traveler who never finds a home. She craves the sky, the shift, the new— Yet aches for roots and something true. She builds cathedrals made of light, Then hides them softly out of sight. Her voice, a song not often sung, Held back by fears she’s tightly clung. She wants to speak—but holds her breath. She fears her voice may cause a death— Will friends and lovers truly stay, When the polished mask gets stripped away? A helper’s hands, outstretched, so kind, Yet gripping pain she’s left behind. She gives and gives with heart laid bare, Yet fears her efforts go nowhere. One side is fire: fierce, alive— It dares, it dreams, it will survive. The other, water: still and deep, It drowns in silence, longs for sleep. She gives to all, then disappears, Tucked behind unspoken fears. She yearns for kin who see her flame, But hides behind a secret shame. She knows the stars, their hidden codes, She guides the soul through shadowed roads. But in her chest, a tender war: To be enough, and need no more. Craving freedom, craving home, She is filled with love, yet feels alone. Each move she makes, a balancing act— Between becoming… and holding back. But oh, the beauty in her fight— The dark, the doubt, the streaks of light. Each paradox a sacred flame, Each contradiction knows her name. So let her dance between the poles, Let her hold both shattered and whole. For this is not a war to win— It is the place where growth begins.