That moment that you realize you are okay and will be just fine. That ah-ha moment and appreciation hits dead on your heart target. A part of you drops to your knees in a little disbelief and the other part gives thanks. That moment that opens you up to that Truth.
Wild is the strange pull and whispering wisdom. It's the gentle nudge and the forceful ache. It is your truth, passed down from the ancients, and the very stream of life in your blood. Wild is the soul where passion and creativity reside, and the quickening of your heart. Wild is what is real, and wild is your home.
In the past, I had clung to my girlhood with a crocodile-like resolve because I was afraid I would lose the little girl within if I claimed my role as a woman. But surprisingly, I have found that by working with, and not against, my inner child, my role as a woman has only been strengthened. I truly feel the world will be a better place when we all start to blend our child-like wonder with the power and compassion of our womanhood.
Continually swimming in an endless sea of sensation can at times be exhausting, regardless if it's beautifully terrible or terribly beautiful, and this is why your deep rooted need for peace and self care is essential for support your superb sensitivity.
The root of the word courage is 'cor' - the Latin word for heart. In one of its earliest forms, the word courage meant 'to speak one's mind by telling all one's heart.' Over time, this definition has changed...
What about the real wrongs? What about all that is violent and hurtful and unfair? What about the worst parts, the memories that act as fertilizer for the demons that wait for our vulnerable moments as well-adjusted adults to remind us that, in fact, we still have a lot of work to do?
accept your catalogue of regret,
gather close your imperfect history,
this life can be violent, crucible
grace doesn’t always look pretty,
grief is a complicated ghost
and we are all
in some way haunted.
“Every girl is expected to have caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama and doll tits. This is why everyone is struggling.” ~ Tina Fey
I’m ready to feel, and let loose so that I can feel, a fire within my chest. One that burns from the inside out, smoking ribs, charring flesh, bursting forth into the night as my head peels back with a shout of too-long-imprisoned self escaping from my lips.
And after experiencing a string of brutal broken hearts, travel became not only lonely, but sad, as I would find myself thinking of my lost loves, everywhere I would go, thinking of the 'what-ifs' and the missed opportunities.
There is an aching beauty inside all of us, trapped in the dark, begging to be set free. We have to fight every day to stay beautiful, or else the world will tear us down, lock us up. Our beauty will hide deeper and deeper in a dark space that light cannot reach unless we have the courage to rescue it and set it free and coat the entire universe with our magic.
30 years ago, I took a political stand before an injured dairy cow. There I stood at the gate, looking in at the poor large animal, as our dairy tour guide told us of how the cow was going to make a lot of burgers.
With all that is going on around me, sometimes it's hard to stop, breathe and have a moment to myself. But when I do, I realise it's awesome. And I'm filled with a humble awareness that all will be ok.
Once I was born. Once I will die. And once in that small window of time there will have been a life lived by a person named: me. And perhaps it could be asked once: Did she allow all of life? Did she leave it just a little better than she found it?