BY JESS YOUNG
I wade out into the ocean at dusk to swim under the almost-full moon. The waves crash against my skin and I feel the salt water in my eyes as I dive below the surface. Basking in my solitude, I stare up at the moon, taking in her beauty, feeling the power of her fullness.
“Life is just so good,” I tell her wholeheartedly, meaning it from the depths of my soul.
I know myself so well these days.
I trust myself and I trust the universe with the timing of my life.
I feel light and free.
Simultaneously content while holding a healthy dose of anticipation for what’s to come.
I wonder…how could I have forgotten this feeling of flow these past weeks? Held under the weight of a metaphoric dark cloud, dragging my feet and my heart through my days? I had been teary and lost and aching with loneliness. All of my passion and zest lost to the void.
But that’s just how it goes, I suspect.
We ebb and we flow. Perhaps we just can’t evolve beyond where we already are without a heady dose of growing pains every now and again.
How can we know what we do want if we don’t spend some time experiencing what we don’t?
So we reach for more. And sometimes it hurts. But we learn to rest in the ebb. Hibernate and shed and rest and release and rest some more. All the while moulding our vision for what’s to come. Only then can we make our comeback. Awake and ready. Flowing once more, gushing with gratitude to the moon.
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom.
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