The changing winds, or your battle against them?
The grass as it grows, or your demand for it to grow faster?
This moment, or your rejection of it?
Consider the possibility that Life is never 'against' you.
You are Life.
"Don't hide your wounds, friend.
Let them into this last candlelight.
I won't judge you. See, we are all broken.
There's no shame in being wounded.
You have fought many battles.
Your wounds are not your 'faults'.
Illumined, they are reminders of a deeper healing.
Illumined, they are invitations to the Unbroken.
I smell your wounds festering from denial.
Quick, tear off those bandages.
I will take you exactly as you are.
Right there at the heart of your wounds,
infinitely deeper than "enlightenment",
a silent Hallelujah stirs to wake.
You are only a fucked up mess
compared to some second-hand image
of "perfection".
Namaste
