Chain, Chain, Change~

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The reinvention of self. Often I can be caught in a paradigm. I’m all for evolving but I’d rather it was on my terms- it usually never is.

I’m trying to recall in the midst of this sequence what was the catalyst of this chain reaction? The succession of links. What was once the promise of security and tied together in promise has dissolved into a shackle of strings no longer melded into one conjoined clump. No longer connected.

You see the train derailing… driven by a collision of many objects laying on the tracks. In this existing stage the wreckage is my heart. My self worth and confidence open to be rummaged through.

Each stage, another departure, another rupture, and knowing, clearly knowing, a breakthrough will come. It always has, therefore it always will. As they say, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. What if? Perhaps, I am both student and teacher. That I can be, wait…. I am the captain of my own ship, I steer my own course, even from the backseat. Regardless of placement.

I move forward, or backward, even sideways. My point is this… what comes out of the ash, what rises from self-destruction is self-expression giving way to self-acceptance. The relation and bond of heart and hope, coupled together as one.

Links of love. Hoists of connection.

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Remnant-sance~

Often I find myself in a position of powerlessness. Extended acceptance.

I get to see the dignity of turning over yet another situation that is completely out of my realm of responsibility…

Realm of responsibility.

How funny.

I used to get into trouble for acting out of that realm. Pro-active as a negative. I certainly have doses of irony.

In many instances of chance, I haven’t been given the opportunity to close doors in my terms. Closure has never been a “slamming it shut.” On my side of the door anyways. So I revisit and hope to put a sealant around the emotion. Rewriting and perhaps absolving my role in the outcome. Thus finally removing the ache.

A simple question asked- (one I have yet to answer) “What do you want?” My answers all leading back to the serenity of others, giving way to my own. So the answer, not quite an answer based in self. The answer based in the turning of pages, leading to closing chapters and putting away books. A book of life, love and letting go.

Hence. it always comes back to this… I often feel as if the answer must be one I am willing to live the rest of my life with. In reality, can I- live a day with it? Yes I can. Yes I will.

In the clearing, these hazy days of oncoming summer, It’s toasty here. I see that even in uncertainty, I have a sense of calm within the confusion. As I place one foot in front of the other in the dance of delight, the dance is now one of determination.

As part of me beckons to finally lay to rest this chapter, the renaissance of the heart, the revival of what could have been will always possibly linger and the residue of “what if’s” must equally be put to rest.

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Womb~(ded)~

The unwrapping of the wound often hurts more than the initial cut.

Lately I’ve had the opportunity to really dive into my belief system. As I grow, the gifts keep revealing themselves; sometimes with a tone of misplaced or misdirected anger.

I can either remove myself from the situation or I can become transfixed in the role of the wounded.

There is no truth in being in that anger, only a desire to fill a void of long ago. What is the sense in that?

The presence of the moment unveil an awareness of beginning. So many times my development has relied on the opinion of others- that my existence was so fetal. I was remiss to the truth of my birth.

I was told the other day by a wise soul to really listen to what people are saying. They are giving you an insight to who they truly are. Those words an onset to a labor of love.

The agreement of contract. I believed my fate was detailed in the hands of many and not my own. There is truth in that if I choose to live that concept with a closed mind. I know for me, nothing is permanently shut. Usually doors come with locks and windows have latches, they all come with keys or the ability to open.

The moment I slam shut a belief it will usually visit me in another form. For me to discard that at this time in my life seems thoughtless. So I peer and stretch the site line. I expand and unfold. Embracing what nurtures me and the critic’s, my thoughts are gently put to rest as they should be.

I reside in love and truth be told if I don’t love those moments of doubt, of discussion, I discount their place. The comfort of release and the heartbreak of holding on.

From womb to wonder…

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