in the quiet corner of our hearts we come to remember our voice where it is heard without a sound find comfort in me for the answer will always be you are safe here you are known you are cradled you are home
it’s been quite a year. much has changed. much has stayed the same. i have lived in four different places, after being parked for five years…and i’m on the verge of moving again.
what holds true is that wherever we go, there we be. i feel that as vividly as ever….
the idea that “practice makes perfect” is flawed and untrue. pratice makes fluid; it enables flow, muscle memory, ease and confidence. it invites intuition and insights. it takes you past thinking into presence, focus, and elevated consciousness……
those fleeting moments, when the circumstance overrides the repetitive, cyclical mind-junk of the everyday… it takes two, to both balance and imbalance the usual suspects, to jar the stagnant politeness, to instigate the otherness, the connected consciousness that transcends thoughts, words, and invasive time…
we tend to inundate ourselves with shoulds, have-tos, need-tos – amongst all the other worries and concerns of living. we attach a lot of our creative energy to tasks, and lists, and anxieties about future things, piled on top of whatever may still linger from what has passed….
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