Sometimes we just want to curl up into the fetal position and sleep, right? We long to be ushered into lands without maps by single dreams that won’t let us down. A stream that won’t let us go. It feels nice that way. Gentle. Easy as a breeze. We long for the trusted rhythm of an unwavering current to bring it all home.
The rhythm of living feels a little less consistent on most days. There is a rise and fall that shapes our interpretations and sometimes they are difficult to trust. Perhaps, though, the wavering will be its own teacher. Perhaps there never really was any ground to stand on. Currents change. Tides ebb and flow. There is a progression and then recession. Just look at that wild moon. She knows.
I’m just paying attention over here in my little life. Being awake and aware and alive with my intuition as much as possible seems to be my greatest game plan. I am welcoming fluid thoughts where I can be open enough and respectful enough and honest enough with my own healing, my own needs and my own process of becoming. The place where it gets brought back all the way home into the lungs and ache and breath of what is true. What is me. You.
Really, life might all just be a deep held longing to be satisfied with our own beating hearts…our own warm, soft bodies. There might be some strange questioning when we can actually meet ourselves in that acceptance. Why does it feel abnormally good to find ourselves and wrap our acceptance around every single piece of our imperfect existence? Were we ever taught to disown our own hearts?
Stepping further into authority for my own being, my own opening and responses…it is bringing up a lot of questions. Who do I want to be in relationship to myself and others? What do I actually need and desire in a relationship? I am trying to be open to what this is teaching me without putting undue vision or pressure or expectation on the process of simply unfolding where I am called to unfold. I am curious about the growth. I feel open. Being open feels good. How simple. How divine.
What do I tolerate and what do I deny in the unknown, inevitable face of loss and gain.
What and Who do I allow to define me as “worthy”?
What and Who actually holds that right?
Just because someone tells me I am beautiful or lovely or worthy of their love…doesn’t inflate my worth.
Just because someone does NOT tell me I am beautiful or lovely or worthy of their love…does NOT diminish my worth.
I get to be the only one human truly intimate with my value. Because I am me and I am known and I am loved and I am breathing. I get to choose. I choose to stay open. Awake. While unfolding.