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Fishing for Wholeness

addtext_com_mdyyndm1mta0mjmzAs an observer of life, I recognize my need to fill a void. I fish for the next shiny new thing, the final accomplishment that brings wholeness to my existence, striving toward something at the next turn in the bend. Running for this finish line, expecting to feel complete, leaves a feeling of emptiness. An anticlimactic victory carries diminished expectation of pure elation that turns quickly to disappointment. Motivated by achievement, the results are an empty promise, a delayed realization that life is not about fishing. The wholeness has always been there. I had the magic, power, and fullness all along; I simply had to search within myself and feel it, know it, and embrace it.

My wholeness exists always, yet this truth escapes me often. Nothing I do, say, or have changes this absolute truth. Fishing to snag something for nourishment, for sport, for completion, only offers a brief moment of unfulfilled fullness. Soon I throw the fish back into the water. This marks a reckoning, a sigh, and the acceptance that victory contained tremendous limits and lost its luster soon after catching the prize. Believing I wanted to eat, cook, and bask in the accomplishment longer, dwell in its victory, quickly surfaces the reverse reality. Instead, I return the fish to its origin while I search again for another roaming animal of accomplishment…

Until I know, feel, and accept the freedom and truth of my wholeness.

Open Doors


A peace washes over me. I hear creaking sounds of doors fluttering open and awaken to signs that the universe is guiding, supporting, and orchestrating a high resonance of change on my behalf. An energetic vibration lifts me to exceptional heights. It reminds me to surrender, have faith, and instinctually glide with the flow that surrounds me.

Not long ago doors seemed sealed, negative space occupied my thoughts. I appeared lost; my heart and soul were down for the count. Yet I continued to show up until a day came more beautiful and fulfilling than the last. Maintenance of perpetual positive energy embraced me, releasing pessimism.

Love, gratitude, and compassion embody the staples of this high resonance. Opportunities abound, doors fling open, and anything becomes possible. I walk in the direction of my dreams without hesitation, inscribed by love, kindness, and presence. Trusting that the universe has my back perpetuates this existence.

Open doors are blessings awaiting vision, positivity, and belief.


Inward Reflection

addtext_com_mdkxmji0mte3mzaInward reflection arrives again as the seasons change. My color-coded calendar paints a rainbow of new activity and novel vision sets its sight on my future. An aromatic crispness fills the air as temperatures cool; my tires contract as if drawing inward as they roll. Similarly I travel inward bound, retreat from the external space, feel the quiet settle within me, and close off contact to reflect. Introspection grabs me as the ebb of this season flows into the next; it is my pause button. I stop to take stock, ground myself as I peek through the trees whose leaves are descending, observing the awe-inspiring radiant sky above for guidance to pay homage to my future intentions. Presence of great power draws faith for making alterations into an improved version of my life.

As I walk through the woods, present with each breath, abundant energy filters through me. My head, initially basking with details, my heart, pleading for self-love and change, and my body, heavy with sludge built on poor choices, demand adjustments. With each step, clarity comes, answers illuminate, and new perspective alters my existence. The air beckons novel thoughts, feelings, and views; it bellows new visions reaching fruition, clears sticky cobwebs of the past.” As the path splits, I know instinctively which avenue to embrace; my heart settles with ease with its decision; and I recognize the path less traveled is mine. As the turn orients back to my starting point, it differs from my initial steps into the forest. I head toward newfound freedom, a changed life, and an altered path my navigation system did not initially recognize.

Inward reflection changes me; it transforms my future and lets the leaves fall not where ye may, yet where I place them to live a better life.

Not Alone

addtext_com_mdyzmdq5njy3nwParenting teens sometimes requires a wishing well. We wish, hope, and pray our offspring access present and future prosperity of respect, kindness, and compassion. Our guidance aims toward moving targets like undisciplined arrows lacking power and conviction. We instill our values upon their impressionable hearts and pray connection between us at least leaves love as a residue. Our communications are often lost in translation, their teen foreign language comprehended by pubescent souls only like an exclusive club. To realize they are never alone in this large world of change, challenge, and unease, is our desire.

As her mother, I remain present; notice the nuances that lie beneath the surface of her expressions, the pain that lines the brow of her forehead, the ache in her heart she cannot articulate to release from her existence. The fine line between interference of her assertive independence and the support needed when a hand is necessary is a tightrope that loosens as I near its center. Balancing my role as observer and ‘catcher in the rye’ is delicate when the parenting wishing well runs dry.

“I am present,” I tell her. “Hear me. See me. Feel my unconditional love. Let me relieve the weight from your shoulders when the world upon you is too much to bear.”


addtext_com_mdgymjq5njq3ndgPresence awakens me in the dark while an immediate desire to seize the silent, serene moments of morning with the written word motivates movement. Harsh brightness of the screen settles into wide-eyed clarity and energized momentum. While the keyboard calls from a nameless source, my fingers walk to a poetic chant, drumming gently, parading eloquently down a path of expression. My heart opens easily and offers an authentic dance across the page, dipping and flowing with grace, the keys’ pitter-patter, clattering with intended pauses for reflection. An aromatic nothingness, time’s immobility, and mind movement vacation for this moment. The now of life pauses and enlarges full of love, freedom, and peace, energized by its own reflection.

Therefore, I am sitting in the heart of presence, basking in the brilliance of the sun rising within, my inner power illuminated.

Endings Meet Beginnings

endings-meet-beginningsSeptember is a month where endings meet beginnings. This stoppage and start to schedules, new temperatures, and season, invoke novel pathways for life travel. Taking stock, goal setting, envisioning an improved self orients my direction and occupies my thoughts. The roller coaster of September, mourning the loss of summer day freedom pivots quickly into the responsibility-laden leaves that alter my landscape. Chores increase, busyness necessitates time efficiency, and personal well-being often proves difficult. Without personal self-care, chaos ensues; I feel the initial drop of my roller coaster ride gathering speed by the time I reach the bottom.

My heart irks me to exit the ride and gain my bearings. Imminent death tells my rational mind I must wait the ride’s duration. The maddening short adventure contains twists, bumps, and rickety, ferocious scraping steel knocking my senses. Especially disconcerting is its furiously alarming speed. Initially short of breath, gasping for air as my stomach turns upside down with a sense of falling into empty air, a sudden bodily jerking toward unexpected directions alters my inner distress. Unable to assess my route and get my bearings while life’s intensity and destination has a mind of its own, I await the sudden brake that stops the ride. Gathering my belongings, I exit the coaster, smiling with reddened cheeks at such exhilaration. This pivotal finale meets new energy of slow, calm, and next step actions and choices. This is where endings meet beginnings.

Are you still on the roller coaster or are the next steps yours for the making?

Seasons Change Me

SailingSeptember fosters assessment of my life’s path as the temperature cools, structure resumes, and leaves fall. I contemplate career and personal life goals, pick the fruits of my labor like a ripe apple plucked off a tree. A pause for readjustment, discovery of new pathways for change, and an action plan where opportunity awaits, orient my daily waters. Destined outcomes access my intuition, forcing me from a previous stepping-stone to the next stride forward. Momentum gathers energy as the chugging of my rudder steers and winds begin to alter course. A rhythm begins with repetitive motion until steady she rides. My sail catches full access of the wind. I embrace the alignment and connection, pushing me into open waters, gliding into opportunity, freedom, and peace. The world opens up to all that I am. It offers my sails a forceful course from which to travel. Seasons change me.

Strike Three, Game Over



With a full count loudly laying the foundation his body extends like an eagle in flight, an arm stretches back, and fingers tighten around the object that materializes from his dusty glove. The air is moist with the heat of summer; beading sweat lines his forehead, and dirt lives beneath his fingernails. Chirping birds and observers fill the air with chatter, the background music for the boys of summer. Fragrance of green grass and seasonal dew emit from the diamond.


The gloveless hand releases the red-stitched, white leather sphere with nine-year-old force while his leg elongates to step forward into the soft sand below. Like one giant step for baseball-kind, he gouges the dirt mound below the tiny hill, seemingly a mountain versus a molehill. He relinquished the throw toward another mitt; the anticipation thickens the air as spectators hush to hold their breath; and the projectile barrels toward home. The white object floats as if in slow motion; it carries the held breath of spectators.

A stick of great length awaits connection for its crack at the orb. Square, padded bases occupy bodies ready to run. A crouched, masked boy awaits his mitt’s retrieval. Seven, focused players ready themselves for the speeding, catchable bullet potentially coming their way. Instead, the long rod of swinging aluminum misses the spinning leather by millimeters for strike three, game over.

Change the View, What I View Changes

670xNxIf-you-change-the-way-you-look-at-things-Wayne-Dyer.jpg.pagespeed.ic.6hUzjDNQ6XChange the view and what I view changes. My attention begins to seek new unexplored avenues. These untapped roads initially lay invisible and road blocked from my vision. Suddenly they appear as clear, open paths, and less traveled roads. They materialize since my recent crusade to discard “things” from my environment. With fewer possessions my happiness level skyrockets, the way I look at things change. Where once stuff existed, clean, clear shelves replace my vision. With new clarity, my sight and insight reach further where limitations existed. I see changed expansion to my surroundings and life’s internal, emotional, heart-centered passageways. My focus and attention initiate deeper vigor toward greater understanding of what appears before me. I see things I never noticed before.

“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”  Wayne Dyer

Writers Transfer Truth

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Writers Transfer Truth

Sometimes I arrive at the keyboard without knowing what will materialize. Ideas transfer from heart to mind to fingertips to keys. I trust the process and my fingers do the walking, allowing words to orient themselves upon the page. There is no foresight, no added clues when I sit daily. I surrender and the words flow through me. I am not actually the writer, yet a conduit for the muse that has chosen me. Writers transfer truth.

Rotating Life

My life flashbacks and rotates along a conveyor belt of visuals. I see myself standing before a classroom, numbers upon a chalkboard, equations solved, and students learning earnestly. Yet life interrupts; the vision changes to myself as a student, laptop propped upon, and a graduation cap with red tassel flung aside, and the letters M, B, and A, displayed on my new resume. A man enters the flowing lifecycle, and a white veil guides me down an aisle. Visions of sending packages to customers, product distribution, and inventory stocked upon my shelves, multiple, profitable transactions per day meld my entrepreneurial existence. Birthing babies fills my life with breastfed infants, diaper changes, and chauffeuring kids to the hustle and bustle. Non-profit boards bring new meaning to charity, volunteering keeps math and teaching alive, and community-based giving occupies next steps.

Writing Arrives

Yet one inspiring day, writing arrives without warning, records the memories, and opens a dormant heart. It relays experience and fosters vulnerability for connecting with others, healing hurt within me. Truth flashes across pages. Readers recognize their own plight; feel emotions my words evoke. Hardwired to connect, the words are conduits to weave the web between us. Writing fosters the senses, utters purpose, and illustrates understanding; healing takes place. The words pave my path for inner analysis and an opening of love and belonging. My keyboard is the cog in a wheel that moves this energy; my fingers acknowledge and act in kind. Words flow with what matters, showering the world with consideration, healing, and love between life’s pages and passages. Through this conduit, my words transfer truth.

Stronger and Happier Without

6c77f2dd01d95651147ca17f3ba26193The You is all that does not nurture my body, mind, and heart. Ingredients that leave me wanting more are my addictive numbing agents. Nostalgia gnaws at me such as the Ice Cream truck passes by; movie theater treats call my name; and pain and loss ache for comfort only food could alleviate in the past. These foods numb my emotions and discomfort, fill a void within that simply needs attention, resolution, and healing. Another day without the numbing agents makes me feel stronger and happier. Clean eating is required.

I AM stronger with real food and self-love. The void within dissipates. Anything less weakens me.

Feeling Good Matters

687474703a2f2f7777772e62726f646172742e636f6d2f6f70656e696e67746865626f6f6b2f6f74625f66696c65732f70737963686f6c6f676963616c2d6665656c696e672d676f6f642e6a7067Feeling good following sleep is my ultimate objective, glowing health meeting me when I wake. My feet touch the cool hardwood, gratitude fills my core, and the slogan, “This is my time; nothing stands in my way,” feeds me emotional strength. I tap into my center, my heart beats with the rhythm of a silent morning, and within, an evoked joy rises. A go-get-it attitude materializes; emotional freedom seizes the day with kindness, compassion, and love. Anything less topples the day downward rather than in an upward flow. Feeling good, it is what matters.

Searching My Soul

1041661922-f55c16c991b8f1bce36cba5e57433f2dI search my soul for self-love, self-worth, and self-respect. They apparently escaped as if imprisoned; food filled their void. Guards relieved of their duties lay down their defenses and walked off the job. Chaos and mayhem, primed for this resistance, fight the war against returning unhealthy food inhabitants. I search in my heart for the three escapees and reasons for their departure while havoc reigns upon me.

Freedom lived peacefully within me for the past two years. Yet three months ago, disorder, dis-ease, and opposition infiltrated as a peaceful protest. Recently resistance turned fierce, defiant, and hostile, as sugar, gluten, and dairy assailants began staking their claim within clean territory. The disappearance of peace, love, and a sense of belonging in the form of self-love, self-worth, and self-respect must return for lifetime occupation in my heart. Lifelong happiness, emotional balance, and freedom, are up for grabs; stakes are high.

Uncertain why these core freedoms departed, solutions are on the tip of my tongue. Like missing vocabulary to shout comprehension, I know the answers exist within me; resolution feels close. Notable pride once stood where tainted shame now lives. I currently tarnish my insides, spoil my success, and ruin my health. My mistakes cannot hide; they reveal their discourse upon my face, thighs, and emotional distress as an extra physical and mental layer, inflamed by the toxic byproducts of my edible choices.

Soul Search Ends – Return Core ingredients

I am ready to counter this unrest, strengthen my core, and bring love back internally and to the surface. Searching my soul, parts of me seemingly had vanished, yet instead lay buried. Only within the stillness can I feel my genuine self emerge from the shadows. My distractions hid the vital pieces of my existence. Though recently tapped out by numbed emotions, mysteriously buried and ostensibly erased, my heart and soul carry the extraordinary in me. I shine a guiding light upon the buried treasures that never left the premises of my soul, self-love, self-worth, and self-respect. Chains imprisoning me unravel and unwind while the three core ingredients of my heart reemerge from their trove, their existence now awakened. The soul search ends with self-love at my core and happiness ignited.

Blank Page Again

Blank page again. My freedom for expression excites me, yet induces fear. My silenced voice infiltrates dread by potential words escaping composition. Yet my fingers continues clicking keys, my heart inspires threads, and my mind filters curiosity, imagination, and reflection. Each ending fosters new beginnings with foreboding joy, overpowering elation, and emerging freedom. Balance keeps me from full throttle of excitement, the offenes-altes-Buch-mit-leeren-Seitenclimax unreachable at an author’s endpoint. Insight into my hero’s journey lies there. Writing marks the pinnacle of my existence; it is while inscribing my insides onto paper that I thrive, grow, and thrill my inner senses. Within written expression I AM ENOUGH marks the world as my truth unleashes from my heart. I AM ALIVE! Blank page again fills.

Girl in the Mirror

Norman-Rockwell-Girl-at-Mirror-1954I awaken puffy, inflamed, and numb, staring at the girl in the mirror. My throat swallows painfully while bereavement, regret, and disappointment surface from visual vanishing health and recognition that actions went awry again. A thorough sigh releases the struggle of pent up emotions and exhaustion that couples with these repeated mornings after. I gasp as a tear drops to my lap below. Years of acquiring accumulated wisdom and altering my inner message, I still encounter distress that inertia will give way, my ship to shore post apocalyptic eating will capsize without recovery. What if I cannot right the wrong, survive diving into over consumption, and pull myself from trepid waters to start again. I stare at the girl in the mirror until a glimmer of hope sparkles from her eyes reminding me of my strength, determination, and perseverance.

Another Day One

I rise for day one again, a mental Monday when time feels heavy and motivation fosters commitment to clean food and physical strength of heart and muscle. The impetus to kick the cupcake away from heading to my anticipatory mouth contains loose wiring; detached self-care and self-love confronts and surrenders to the encounter. My long-term plan gone awry again, self-respect dangles, and cake crumbs dropping from my lips seems implausible. Yet immediate gratification beckons more sweets, impulsive responses damage me further, and an ache within wants change. Day one starts with a momentary quiver, wavering, teetering until momentum turns the corner near the ledge.

Unaccompanied, lost, and scared, perilously close to the cliff’s edge, a slight breeze has the potential of dumping me to rock bottom, where I began this journey long ago. I know friends nearby support me, would answer the call with the phone-a-friend option. Yet self-accountability beckons me to bridge the gap between dependence upon them and self-action. No longer do my days consist of holding others accountable for my successes and failures. Sustainable lifestyles have days of reckoning when we stand at the crossroad of do or don’t, regardless of social support or not. Disconnected by what others think and do, acting on my own behalf becomes essential.

Unraveling results find me at Day One, not at ground zero. My past repeating, I peel fat layers again; returned pounds beckon for change. Taking stock, I acknowledge past distance traveled and extensive knowledge accumulated. I return along a shorter route with clearance to run, power to self-engage, and perseverance to go the distance as my best self reaches fruition. Delayed gratification meets my commitment and erases the cookies that had me crumbling. Day one marks the first day of the rest of my life. Embrace rather than resist its return and I alter my results allowing a second day to prosper with strength and momentum.

Living Without Frenzy

Days move fast. Details are plenty. Head feels full. To slow the motion, shake this frenzy, I freeze the memories into picture frames, and still my beating heart with love for each essential second. I jump off this merry-go-round, sit in a field of stillness, and breathe in the glory of being. Time ticks faster, my motherhood role elevates to chauffeur, and I yearn for the smallest of genuine conversations and connections as we speed to the next ballgame, the next year-end activity, the next juncture of their lives exiting and commencing before me without acknowledgment. I no longer connect with others; frenzy stays with me. Yet, she releases herself long enough to let go and free me from captivity.

My son’s passion shines with a hit to left field, a single stretched into a double, and a slide into home plate. The play to first, the line drive caught on the fly, and a short pick-up to tag and close an inning out, are the joys that fill his heart beyond measure. A horse’s canter and jumping the two-footers with my daughter atop sets a glow this ride ignites within her. She rides with bliss, filled with love for this graceful creature, and feels more exhilarated than any other event can foster. As I sit on the sidelines, I feel my breath wave in and out, easing into stillness that recently escaped me. Frenzy is gone and I am one with the moment, grateful for the breath, experience, and elation of beauty within and around me.

When frenzy returns, I filter it out with a breath. There I pause to listen, see, and feel a glimpse of freedom as frenzy fades away into the stillness of an idyllic event. Frenzy files down its edges to smooth contours when the wind whistles, the crack of the bat declares a hit, and the hooves beat the ground with rhythm. I then experience happiness blended with harmony as the moment envelops me. These days as time moves faster and memories collide into a blur, releasing frenzy from my life offers the gift of joy, the thrill of freedom, and the stillness a good life requires. When I feel frenzy beckon, I release its hold, still my heart, and feel life’s bliss.

My Labyrinth

My world is spinning, my body standing still as the room moves around me. Bracing the walls, holding back nausea, I pray for mercy. Feeling physically well escapes me, the earth spinning without my ability to climb aboard. I ask the hard questions that correlate with my impending doom. Have I lived a complete life? Has my life purpose left its mark on the world? Can I elongate my stay, enhance my health, and serve people surrounding me? With a vertigo diagnosis, I remain horizontal letting silence and stillness illuminate hard truths left dangling without direction, a voice, or a space to make a difference.

My reality seems dismal. Yet my unrelenting spirit wants to alter my actions to wellness and prioritize life’s bigger picture into focus. Intend my next move, settle the earth from turning too fast, and live my life with purpose. When I was young, with every gift my grandparents uttered in some variation, “Wear it in good health, use it in good health, enjoy it in good health.” Since then, I feel compelled to live in good health. With a sudden shift of imbalanced bearings, I need a hand, faithfully supporting me. Healing requires belief, actions that support my health, and gratitude for the experience cast upon me.

Fascinating is that my vertigo originated within the inner ear where the body’s balance is maintained, called the labyrinth system. Within this maze, three semicircular canals contain fluid and act like a gyroscope, communicating where the body is in relation to gravity. Tiny crystals called cupuloliths dislodge from their place on top of the nerves, causing irritation to the fluid within the canals, causing vertigo. Researchers also believe particles free-floating within the labyrinth apply force causing vertigo symptoms as well. Imagining my gems free-floating, needing to rest in their origin and find their way home upon my nerves, is an interesting metaphor. Perhaps fear resides where my gifts to the world live. Symbolically my writing needs to exist where my courage lives. Disconnected currently, my gems (crystals) require a return to their rightful home, situated upon my nerves. Without this, I find myself disoriented.

Although connecting these dots an implausible truth, the timing of completing the second draft of my book, further than I have reached toward publishing thus far, is serendipitous. The completion feels dizzying, a disorientation of what comes next leaves an imbalance and uncertainty of my next action step. Yet guidance and intuition can cause this labyrinth to jar the gem within me back into its place of origin upon my nerves. Courage lives within me and fosters this journey to publishing my first book. Perhaps the world will stop spinning, vertigo depleted from its awakening purpose, and my book will find its way to the publisher and your bookshelf.


My body feels renewed as spring has sprung, leading to the end of emotional and physical hibernation. Buried beneath snow, cold, and parkas, sun, warmth, and tank tops reunite to highlight the day. With this new season comes outdoor activity, walking with friends for miles, baseball at big-league parks and little league on sandlots, and natural vitamin D dispensing into my body from rays of sunshine. While spectacular buds birth and grow upon branches, I enter the world a replenished, transformed woman. My goal weight reached, walking where few amble, out of an old version into my new body, proud, and comfortable in my skin, emotionally, physically, and internally reborn, seeing what is impossible when self-love ignites and weight releases.

Emotionally euphoric, full of joy and illuminated light, fog, depression, and darkness of faded energy, disappeared. A roller coaster of sugar highs and lows bringing tears, excess weight, and searches for sustainable solutions became my past, never to return. The beacon of light finally lit itself where initially obscurity loomed. I trusted the clean eating process, a lever raised to show me the way. Hearing hope, direction, and possibility, and feeling love, support, and gratitude, I ventured slowly along the journey. Prior to physical transformation, acceptance, a white flag, and self-love lead my path.

Physically my energy restored, replenished, and recharged. Years of lethargy, ultimate exhaustion by three in the afternoon, and a weakened core caused lower back pain and deteriorating strength. Alleviated ailments, push-ups, planks, and boot camps restored my energy, core, and posture, rehabilitating my physical strength. Walking tall, carrying heavy items with ease, and rejuvenated, my physical prowess is undisputed. Rebirthing atrophied muscles into dense matter alters my mood; I reach for and strengthen all facets of my life. The physical aspects connect with the emotional elements, fueling my body, brightening my core, mind, and heart.

Enhanced by physical power and emotional stamina, rebirthing my spirit has replenished my soul. When writing, words pour out of me like a watering can, enhancing the soil, soaking the seeds, and sprouting the part of me blessed with this gift. As strength rises within me, my essential purpose stirs to send the words from my heart to paper, sharing my journey, enlightening lives though the magic of letters upon a page. This rebirth aligns me with a higher power that had escaped connection when the blues, weakness, and darkness surrounded me. Freed from my own shackles, words sprout daily, flowering thoughts to feed my soul. No longer a void to fill, or an emotion to numb, internally these new beginnings connect me to something greater than myself. Life purpose appears present and set in motion.

To ride the rails of change and personally grow, rebirth is a steady process of patience. An emotional, physical, and mental transformation primes itself for a lifetime. Yet strengthening all avenues, releasing the “old”, and birthing a new body, energy, and heartfelt connection, engage my senses, empowers, and changes my life. Self-worth, the mighty mountain at the core of emotional, physical, and spiritual growth is paramount. Comfortable and confident in my skin and freeing myself from fear, rebirth began. Formerly falling deeper into an abyss, I clawed my way out as rays of hope and lightness of being led me out of misery, darkness, and desperation. Years of turmoil fed hidden emotions, weakened me physically and mentally, then seeds sowed, spring sprung, and self-love created my rebirth, strengthening my mind, body, and spirit.

Letting Go

A shaming, destructive, and painful memory from the past flew into view recently with an immediate surprise; it triggered nothing. I felt nothing, no judgment, no opinion, no emotion wrapped around the memory. Peace suddenly arose and surrounded the thought normally met with anger, resentment, and sadness. Instead of grabbing the nearest Oreo®, I sat peacefully, aware of transition, healing, and a nothingness I thought impossible. This newly occupied space of past hurt, regret, and pain, simply nullified into letting go, transitioning into a “knowing” of surrender, peace, and non-reaction. Relieved from this non-triggered emotional response, unaware of how this would materialize, today a “knowing” of my healing arrived and I let go.

Changing, healing, and mending of the heart happen sometimes silently. Does transformation require consciousness to process healing into being? My current experience concludes healing hovers, infiltrates, and assembles wordlessly, invisibly, and undetected, until thoughts, emotions, and actions accustomed to pulling a lever no longer generate an explosion of pain, worry, or divisiveness. When what would normally be reactive nullifies into silence, a letting go with acceptance occupies the space. Peace, self-respect, and self-love replace the self-loathing, outward hatred, and stored, hoarded anger. Great supply of resentment releases, the heart softens, and healing commences.

With compassion, inward and outward, I let go. Lacking judgment, resentment, and anger, I let go. Without control, tightening, and fear, I let go. Insight, consciousness, and introspection occupy my mind, I let go. Transformation in silence, simply being, and undisturbed, I let go. Releasing the weight, the emotional baggage, and the past, I let go. Cleansing the closet, the old, and the ancient, I let go. Losing shame, yet acquiring resilience, I let go. Allowing, opening, and soothing the heart, I let go. Through peace, healing, and stillness, I let go. The “knowing” is living open heartedly and letting go while feeling a sense of belonging, self-worth, and peace.

A healed and wholehearted existence translates to living authentically. Knowing what others think of me no longer mattering, encompasses my life. Cultivating self‐compassion releases perfection, engages my vulnerability to connect with others, and eliminates numbing of emotions and feelings of powerlessness. I foster gratitude, joy, and peace, enabling this release. Self-love, respect, and acceptance, while letting go, replace uncertainty. By simply being my authentic self, the nothingness suddenly existed, stillness presided, and I let go. Broken pieces of me, the shards of emotional glass that cut deeply, tarnished my past and present, curiously disappeared. The void filled where emptiness resided, a foundation formed, as if already there without me knowing it, and I let go. Time, process, and digging, healed deep wounds, yet “letting go” set me free.

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