Trying to remember what life was like, before awakening to the truth.
Aimlessly wandering around this earth, searching for things, people, and experiences to validate my existence. Screaming — “Fill me up, world, because I am Empty.” Self-destructing my way through — a walking forest fire.
There comes a point in life when you realize you can’t burn any more shit to the ground.
Because you’ve done it all already.
And from those ashes of the shit you burned, become that from which you rise out of and you say enough is enough.
That’s the rebirth.
When you hit the bottom of it all and have to decide — decide that it’s time to meet yourself.
That’s the point where you begin to rebuild.
Brick by brick.
Layer by layer.
Shedding and building simultaneously.
Guided to the center of your soul.
The process is simmering — like a savory stew on a wood stove, in the mountains in winter.
A sort of slowness.
This unfamiliar road is full of twists, turns, and blind curves — and so you lean into it, like you would a lean into lover…embracing all that comes next.
All the while — learning what it means to trust something bigger than you, something you can’t see…
Caught in the free fall that is surrender.
Cradled and loved, all at once.
It’s a painful death of the old. Like an addict, in withdrawal.
The person you’ve clung to, scared to let her go because she’s familiar. The pain is familiar and self-suffering is what she knows. The stories she needed to cling to that cannot come with her to where she is going.
There is beauty in the person that emerges from the black ash of all the shit that needed to die, in order for the new to be born.
This is all of us.
Warriors of our own troubles.
Walking through our own darkness.
Finding our way into the light.
Healing as we go deeper.
Transforming into something else. Something new.
Walking this path so that others, that come after, find our footsteps.
We are all lighthouses.
Showing each other how to get home, in the storm.
Sip a little more: