we cling on to the old hurt stories because to let them go would mean the death of those same stories… and we fear death, in general. or, we fear the unknown.
in a culture that prides itself on the mechanics of manifestation, and controlling the causes that will generate our desired effects, we’re in a constant state of struggle and resistance against the natural flow of things. tick tock, right? we don’t trust, therefore we must push, push, push and break and fight for and fight against and … blah, blah, blah.
if you keep going about it in the same ways that you have, you will keep getting the same results. that’s simple mathematics, and physics 101. if you say you’re better off alone, but don’t want to be alone, but want to share your life, but want to be left alone, the universe will make a black hole. that’s the only option in a persistent vacuum state as it needs to find a way to shift and bend our perspective around a scenario so we can alter our beingness to suit – if we say, as we have a billion times, we want something different.
but to welcome something different, we have to be open to the unknowns, and we have to dare to engender faith, trust, and knowing beyond what we’ve conceived of before. how can something better fit within the constraints of our world as we’ve been living it, designing it, maintaining it, manipulating and painting it with only the same old familiar palette?
the struggle, really, is in allowing that story to die. but we’re proud of (attached to) our identity and so much of us is wrapped up in it. who would we be without it? if it dies, don’t we also die?
our work is in aligning our thoughts, with our intentions, with our emotions. we are quite masterful at keeping our wheels spinning, with our daily doses of mixed gratitude for one thing, hatred for another, utter detesting of another, and love of another. we imagine and desire one outcome, fear a potential outcome, feel unworthy of an outcome, and then binge on distraction because of the stalemate and emotional overwhelm.
there is work involved, but it’s in the intangible, the impractical, and the ethereal. it’s taking responsibility for the weeds in our mental gardens, not with guilt and shame, but with acceptance, recognition, and letting go. it’s looking at the scars, and reframing them in light and love and learning. it’s remembering that our eyes often deceive, and that there are some filters that need adjustment, or releasing.
it’s in engaging our creative selves anew, moment by moment, until we can take the oars out of the water completely; the river knows exactly how and where to take you.
it knows only, and finally, that you are loved. do you?
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