The past few days have been tough for my family and I.
If this year hasn't been challenging enough already, we're all experiencing our own internal storms. Heavy rain is falling and winds are strengthening in wild and untamed speeds.
A close loved one is battling cancer, and my grandmother of 91 years passed away early this week.
Life is always unpredictable. Her nature is raw and capricious, yet never unkind. Sometimes it feels like the ground we've become accustomed to treading is ripped out from underneath us, and there's no steady footing to prevent us from falling.
But can you see, even in your darkest hour, that the only terrain you ever grow from is uprooted and eradicated fields, in no need of sunlight or watering, but allowing them to be in their tenderness?
When life is heavy and all is lost, when you're in forests brimmed with trees whose branches reach the moon, and there's no exit to your pain, my love, you must enter those wounds. You must try with all of your heart to dig deeper into the spaces you fend off and escape in your pursuit of paradise.
Paradise only exists after nightfall; when you've experienced darkness, light will follow. By following your darkness, you call upon your light.
Allow yourself to become uprooted. Let the ground beneath you shake with ferocity. See the sky beneath you and your feet above you.
When you enter the eye of the storm, you are the storm.
Locate your center.
Discover your darkness.
You'll find yourself there.
Not all is lost, my love. You will be found.