nobody really knows me

truth?  or lie?

empowered thought or desperate cry?

my whole life i’ve parceled out pieces of myself thinking it was them – better than me.

handing over power, seeking pats on the back and enabling unhealthy patterns where i am not the lead.

47, the programs run deep, yet lack depth.  irony, blasphemy.

such total bullshit, i’m at a loss …

for words,

for patience,

for me.

 

born


Anything born out of fear has an undeniable birthmark.


Insidious, fear will steal your true self, bury intuition and scrap your good nature.

You struggle for sure as it grows … as it reveals it’s limited disposition, but keep it close just in case.

It’s kind of a way out every time you give in; denying possibilities, forfeiting the reigns.

Just be sure to appreciate your hard work of holding it tight and revel in all the ways it’s keeping you down and holding you back.


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the strength of form | i ask Rumi …

The-strength-of-form
The mountain leads the world in form. A place to start and end.

The Strength of form

Rumi says: Listen to this story: When the soul left the body it was stopped by God at heaven’s gate: “Alas! You have returned just as you left. Life is a blessing of opportunity. Where are the bumps and scratches left by the journey?”

I ask Rumi …

They say think positive, let the vision be of yourself as if it is already. Trust. Let go. Be clear.

My hands hold each plate with marked sadness in the bod. Have I envisioned that a thousand times plates would pass through my hands? That I would stand and weep with gratitude at such a simple pleasure – admiring a singular part of my form -holding on to such wares, letting the warm water move around the thing while still making it wet?

I must have.

I ask Rumi, “What if my bumps and scratches heal before my soul leaves the bod and a quiet, gentle walk – hand-in-hand with simple pleasures – feels like a blessed opportunity? And why are there gates?”

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