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Being lost, I am found






Can you endure your uncertainty until it shows you another, deeper way?    -Mark Nepo




Being lost, I am found. What I was taught was sin, is actually my salvation. What I was taught was bad, is good. Dark, light. Dangerous, liberating (although that is a paradox.)

I need soothing. To get over the pain of being taught wrong. But this is life, discovering that you were taught wrong, by your tribe. Everyone experiences this. And now it is simply time for you to relearn. It is your choice. Re-invent your life in a way that feels right to your soul. And all that undoing becomes a part of your liberation.

My god is brooding over this exploration.

They are watching. But they have always been watching. Tight lipped, tight fisted, ready to pounce with words of judgment, with looks of disapproval. Will I live the rest of my life under this shadow? Or will I risk shocking them, myself. Will I risk liberation? Will I risk detaching from what they think? I think it’s time, baby. And you're well on your way.

Creativity demands it of you. Freedom demands it of you. Love - lovingly, insistently demands it of you. Love is not whispering softly anymore…. She is not trying to shake you gently awake. 

She is shaking you fiercely awake. 

It is time to heed her. There is no other choice now. Sink or fly. The times demand it of you.

My god is brooding over this truth. My god without gender, without religion. The god in me. The god me.

I can see my body dancing and twisting as it was always meant to. The only reason my soul came here is to dance.

Body free to dance.

Voice free to sing.

Life free to live.

There is no other choice for me to make.

Walk to the beat of my own drum.

There is no other way.

Do I believe that life is a pulling-apart I must survive or a constant rearrangement and putting together I must surrender to? (paraphrased from Mark Nepo)

My belief will determine the ease, flow, and ultimate blossoming.

My god is brooding over this blossoming. Always has been.

I create my own reality with my most strongly held belief.

This is hard/bad. This is good/liberating. And so it is.

You cannot rush or force liberation. But you can ask for it, and ache for it, and be in it, in whatever form it shows up.

In nature, the seed is buried deep under the ground in the darkness. Then it cracks open into a blossom.

My only point of control is how much I choose to surrender. Once I begin to crack open how much will I surrender? Will I allow myself to crack open all the way into blossom?

Do not mistake the cracking for an ending. It is a beginning.

I am wild, sweet Leah in the wild, wild river.

Deep in grace.



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