Updated: Dec 10, 2019
There is something inside of me waiting to be seen. I feel it seated within me, quietly lingering until I become still and recognize its divinity. It's been drifting at the base of my stomach my whole life, even before my own birth; before I was created, this thought of creation was conceived. It comes and goes, gracefully revealing itself to me when I allow myself to become unraveled. When I take the time to not speak, to not think, to not go anywhere or do anything, rather to simply sit and allow myself to breathe.
In and out.
In and out.
How do I get lost and forget about you? How can I travel miles and miles and not see that you are always part of me? Sometimes it only takes distance and being led astray to find my way back to you. All I have to do is close my eyes, take a deep breathe and exhale long and slowly, to see that you have risen from the depths of my stomach and into the corners of my heart. It's from this space that I see things more clearly; I understand myself and why I'm here; I feel immense gratitude shine over me like pure sunlight and any anxieties, worries or fears fall into the fire, burning with their embers floating into the sky.
Now that I've found you again, I ask you not to leave. When I choose the busyness, the late nights, the mornings slept in, the gossip and the chatter, I ask that you remember me, that you show yourself to me, through the voice of a stranger, the illumination of a crescent moon, the sounds of Spring, through the emblems in my dreams.
I know what I'm meant for and I'm ready to rise to the occassion. In order to fully step into who I am, there has to be a death of the me that I am now. Am I willing to let her go? Will I be okay when I lose all of the identities I've created? Will there still be people by my side?
I don't yet know the woman waiting at the end of the field for me, but I'm ready to step forward and experiment with a different kind of life. A different kind of self. An awakened awareness to lead me home.