I think the gift of my journey so far is the acute awareness of my own mortality
Which often leaves me with a sense of incredible impatience.
But equally so, inspires me to consume.
To inhale deeply all that is this life.
What I breathe out is not polished with wisdom and logic.
Not an unwavering calm or an even release.
It’s messy and incomplete.
and unravelling again.
It’s wading through mud and occasionally stopping to sink.
Though to be stuck does not mean to never move again
And, oh, how I move.
I can move like honey
and let life flow through me,
a channel for the divine.
I can exist as both expansive and untouchable
and hold this space with loving kindness and deep, eternal peace.
And I can crumble.
I can exist without spirit and I can lose touch with where I am in all of this.
I can be cruel and callous.
Our outer world is merely a mirror of our internal state.
You manifest your reality
what you feel is what you see.
So, ejecting myself into societal flow on days when my spirit is wavering
is a most draining and suffocating experience.
Though, on days in which my soul sings
I remember to notice the sky.
Those are the times where I can pause and exist in my bubble
expansive and untouchable.
Oh, what a ride.