There was pain in returning to wholeness. It was painful to reach back to parts of myself stuck in the past. And it was painful to begin to feel the pain of others as my own pain.
But there was no turning back. There was a tenderness in tapping into truth that I was unwilling to let go of again. And so I continued to meet each unfolding moment from a state of prayer — trusting in life to meet me. It felt like a huge risk, but I had been in that place before.
There was peace in the delicate way I learned to hold all thoughts and emotions and find my way through challenges — not alone, but with a hint of inner grace and trust I hadn’t known before.
I had gained a respect for the sacred journey back to our hearts. Tender places where old wounds lived reminded me of where I had been and the purity of love able to reach through dark places. The intensity of this love remained and softened the need for such extreme contrast.
There was a tenderness in the careful merging of the most difficult, painfully raw parts of the journey with the equally raw beauty of having found a love pure enough to match it. It was this newly unfolding path I learned to trust in each moment with all my heart.
I found myself
listening to life
in a way I could only
discover through direct
an exploration of how
this worked for me —
aided by my observations
and innate ability
to listen with my heart
and trust what it revealed.