I’m feeling and odd sense of sadness and nostalgia, intermingled with profound joy and peace. For so long I battled to gain back my sovereignty and trust in the knowledge that I am enough. I am strong and brave and courageous. I’m back to me, but somehow, I have also become an Island and it is lonely.
This picture of my Granny and I at 10 years old, sitting part way up Worlds View in the Matopos, quite possibly my favourite place on earth, encompasses all that. She was a strong woman and her boys were her life and yet, even as a child I could feel her loneliness in self sacrifice. I visit her in my dreams.
I came across this post this morning and have to share it. It sums “me” up perfectly.
I’ve searched for it. Scraped over the events of my past in search of the moment I began believing that I was broken. The moment I accepted that something in the foundation of my being was flawed a…
Source: You Are A Lot, But You Are Not Too Much
Put your baggage down people. Life does not need to be so heavy.
Why do we insist on carrying around the bad? I’m not referring to burdens, I mean the crap from our past that we just won’t let go of. Why do we insist on dumping it over any good thing that comes our way? Contaminating our present, sabotaging our future, effectively continuing to give our past power over us?
Put it down. Let it go. Kick it to the curb if needs be. Don’t let it be the filter through which you look at life. It skews our judgement, applies irrational thinking and robs us of inner peace.
Innately, we like to hold onto stuff so it has to be a conscious effort. Learn from it, grow, adjust and then let it go.
If you must carry something, carry the good. You will find that the good carries you. It lightens your load. Let the blessings in your life be what precede you. Build everyday on this foundation. View people by their own merit and not on the merit, or lack thereof, of people in your past.
Today is a new day. Put your baggage down people. Life does not have to be so heavy.
“We all need a Sacred Witness in life, a person who can listen without judgment while knowing the right questions to ask that continually illuminate our path.” ~ Caroline Myss
My promise to you . . .
I will love you unconditionally;
I will listen without judgement;
While you hear your own North Star
When your path is unclear;
I will direct that light
Take my hand;
I am your Sacred Witness
I have been exchanging nightly gratitudes with a couple of my friends, one via WhatsApp. The other night, my post went like this . . .
“I am grateful that my life is so easy that a dishwasher feels like a necessity; That getting a second vehicle felt like an absolute need; And that going without electricity for ten days had me considered amazing.”
Her response confused me a little. She found it sad, but this got me thinking about what I was really trying to say. What I was attempting to convey, was not sad at all.
My gratitude was for the fact that I have witnessed enough life to have perspective and that I am aware enough to know that my perception is not entirely reality. That I am grateful for the abundance in my life and while I still want, I don’t need. That I grew up, learning how to make a plan when life does not go according to plan. That I have learnt how to roll with the punches and have the tenacity to go after what it is that I do want with the perseverance of need.
Lack of perspective in a persons life gives way to a misconstrued perception and this, is very sad. Since perception is individual reality, it is all the more important to ensure that one is always looking outside of oneself.
A friend of mine lost his son today. My son lost one of his best friends. Taking just one breath in the face of that is amazing.
Appreciate the good in ones life. Treasure the moments and remember to be grateful.
Here I sit. More than 10 kilometers, somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean racing toward daylight at over 900 kilometers per hour. My emotions frayed and in a complete tangle.
My last trip, a year ago, was due to the sudden death of my Dad and now I feel a tightness in my throat. A wild scream threatening to escape.
Conversely, I sense the thrill of adventure thread it’s way in amongst the angst. I can’t wait to inhale the dry, dusty, distinctly African air. I yearn for my home. Albeit now, somewhat unfamiliar, Africa will always be at the essence of my being.
I long to sink into the comfort of belonging and dread ripping myself away from it again. I feel guilt for my overwhelming want to be where I am not. To be known. Understood. Not alone.
Thankfully, love is a force to be reckoned with and I step aside. I am blessed to know my purpose in this life and to be living it with a passion. My cup is not half full, it overflows.
The butterflies are gone, but the humming birds will always be yours.
Nine years ago, today was your last day on this Earth and thankfully, still vividly clear in my memory. It was an excellent day!
Today, I can finally say you’re free and once again, I’m Sovereign. Thank you. Thank you for staying with me and I’m sorry if I held you here too long.
Be free butterfly, visit me on the wing.
My Dad died suddenly November 25th, 2014. I have never before felt such crushing pain. For hours, a wild, terrified and hurt animal screamed out from within my core. Even now, the very remembrance burns in my throat and wells out my eyes. How can he be gone? But he is not. In fact, now he’s even closer. Just a whisper away. Opening my eyes to the futility of life. The realisation that this life on earth is merely moments. Not accomplishments, success or failure for that matter, but moments. Those little memories that mosaic together. The joy and the pain. The many moments that touch us and we get to touch others. Be someone’s moment today. Give them a little piece of yourself and make their mosaic of life beautiful. I know my Dad is out there, precious fragments in so many lives. I love you Dad!
Continuing along my path of the unattainable, I’m realising that rejection is more often than not perspective than reality. To be truly rejected, one has to have been on the inside in the first place. How fair is it to just expect you were there because that’s where you had placed the other person? I put myself in this place far too often, but why? Desperation, utter loneliness? No. Hope. Naive belief that somewhere out there, I am someone’s imperfect match. Yes. Imperfect. It’s the cracks and imperfections that make us who we are. That solidify our relationships. Prove them true. I will endeavour to continue in my pursuit of love. Surely it’s not all just an empty pocket full of dreams?