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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