My soul feels weary and yet, something is coming alive inside,

Something is starting to breathe for the first time.

I don’t know what to call it…faith, hope, magic or perhaps just belief.

It really doesn’t matter what it is, because what it is makes me feel whole, allows me to brave the tough moments and settle into the quiet ones.

I always thought that when this kind of aliveness finally arrived that it would be with gusto, fortitude and ambition.

But it’s not; the real aliveness is more peaceful, more serene. It’s like reclining into a comfortable old chair, you just are.

I have wished for wholeness, I prayed for it, I searched for it, I cried over it, and I yearned endlessly for it. Yet it only came when I let go, when I said no.

When I said no to all that wasn’t me, even the beautiful and bittersweet, I let go again and again and again.

I’ve let go so many times it doesn’t daunt me anymore. I’ve loved and lost and loved some more.

And I’m not worried.

The world tells me to be brave, to be dauntless, to face my fear…yet what if the thing I truly fear is within? What if what I am most afraid of is not a what, but a who?

Perhaps we are all only afraid of who we are, who we can be, and who we are not.

So what if the way through fear is to allow? Allow all parts of yourself to live and in doing so they become better has a whole than when you separate them out.

The good, the bad, the questionable…leave what is not you and all that is, own it, reclaim it and embrace it.

It’ll be a good start for sure; it’s an adventure in allowing, one I’m just embarking on.

I’ve left the shore, the safety of the self I used to be and headed out into the unknown, ready to find the Self that needs to be reclaimed and it feels good, it feels alive.

I don’t know what I’ll find, but then again, what does it matter?

It’s all just a moment, a breath in the grandeur of the universe and it’s okay.


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