musings upon returning home

Life, which is, in and of itself, love,

is deeply complicated and an intricate design.

I take a deep breath and I hold my own hand and

I take a confident step into the unknown of it all.

I bring my real self on this journey.

I allow room for new ideas and questioning the things

I thought I knew. I allow myself to know nothing at all.

To simply be human, and therefore, trying. What I do not bring with me into

this space is the thing that makes me be less true to myself to accommodate others, to never appear as though I am “too much” of any one thing

in particular. I leave behind the “shoulds” and the pleasing and the things that used to help me look out instead of in. I trade my telescope

for an X-ray. I take a deep breath and I trust myself to love well.

I take a deep breath and I let go- just a little- of myself. I hadn’t realized

I was holding on so tightly all this time. I let go.

I let someone else hold me a little bit. And

I myself am held and I am free in my own hands. When

I don’t hold myself so tightly

I am free to be held by love and when my love allows me to be free

I can hold myself in the best ways. My heldness and my freedom are

entirely in my own hands.

The road ahead is uncertain. I cannot run ahead

and learn the way. I cannot control it. I cannot control it. I cannot.

And I celebrate that. Because this way I am able

to pour all my love and energy into that which I can control. Instead of wasting away, grasping at nothingness, holding myself so tightly

so as not to open myself to a certain freedom. I find peace in this path.

Along the way I see pain. Hello there.

And I see sorrow. Hi.

But as these grow along the side of the path.

A ways away. I do not have to seek them out. Pick them like flowers

and make myself a nice bouquet of troubles.

They are not for me. It is likely that I will trip.

But that doesn’t mean that I have to spend all my time looking down

and being careful. So what.

When I fall I simply rise again. I will look up and

see the clouds passing. See the blue of the sky.

Notice the light as it dancing between the clouds and makes me feel holy.

In the sacred space

I start to walk slower.

I relax the muscles of my face.

I find a patch of joy off the path and this

I do go to. It is for me.

I can claim it for myself. This is the bouquet

I will make for myself.

I will plant the seeds in my own garden. God, my little garden that

I love. Because this is where

I learned to care and be tender and to nurture myself as much as anything else.

I will grow this joy here for myself. Come wind and rain and come what may

I have planted deep seeds of joy that blossom.

They have seasons like anything else. Me included.

I am up and down eternally. Here,

I have peace in my heart. I walk the path and return home to my garden. And when

I have spent enough time in my garden

I go walk the path again, knowing that

I will return and find joy growing in many places.

I tend to myself the way I do the joy flowers. I am gentle.

I am brave in the way that

I triumph over all that lays behind me.

I am pure energy and light. Radiant by my own description.

I see myself clearly. There is bubbling in my heart. Where

I live. Everything inside of me is a power that

I use for good. For my

good.

I am. I am exactly. In the silence of my garden or the silence of the path,

I find myself. Buzzing. Taking it all in. And

I do not run or turn my face away.

I bask in the glory of lifelove that emits from within myself. And I know. Everything and nothing at all. And there is space inside of me for more.

And I curl up small inside myself and find comfort there.

Resting. Trying. Living. I find comfort.

AMV