2 min read

guiding lights

guiding lights

the lights of napier, new zealand

my life: not always simple and flowing… not all holidays and postcards from.

forming new relationships with friends and family. understanding that i very often have nothing to do with how they treat me… that it’s not about me at all.

i wish for peace amongst my family. acceptance of differences, past wrongs, mistakes, a healing of old wounds. getting clear with myself about how i interact with each of them – forgiveness, sitting with them, listening to their stories without judgement or fixing or helpful advice – is a way towards peace within myself.

i will meet you.

practising forgiveness. testing the hard edges, trying to bring more softness, grace and peace in. seeing my belief in myself – a tiny sliver of light through an open door. wanting to open until it fills my arms – overflowing… so i can pass some on to you until we are surrounded by our own light. believing in ourselves and each other.

open to whatever shows up.
returning to the breath.

doing the work. forgetting how useful it is and falling back into old patterns and beliefs.

jealous feelings arise as i hear of friends doing this or that. causing me suffering until i return to a place of accepting what is once more. a reminder that my work is not yet done.

my body is not my enemy. my body is not my enemy.

opening myself up to creative possibility i realise i am setting myself up… to fail or succeed is my choice to make.

i want to see the truth of each moment. the cracks that appear that cause us to take notice. the scars that form, never what we once were, but something more. with a new piece of cloth woven into our story.

easily distracted, i stray away from my guiding light to follow another. losing my heart centre trying to be more like you. this is not my path. this is not my path. i need to find my own places to stand. strong. in myself.

i fall on my knees, not always getting back up with ease. grasping at happiness and quiet moments where i remember that all i have to do is show up and be willing.

questions may not ever be answered. even those that i ask again and again. why am I here? what is my purpose? can i sit with the questions even if i never figure out the answers?

if you talk to me, i will talk to you. sometimes i forget that it is up to me to make the first move if we are to ever speak again.

rain on the roof returns me back to a place where life reminds me that simple accommodation, with a lot of heart, is better than any five star hotel.

i have a home. i have enough. i can share my food and shelter with you. a warm blanket. a bowl of soup. a cup of tea. welcome to my hearth. let us tell stories, sing, create, have a nap if we need.

and in this moment, i am at peace.