The sense of direction that we have when we start towards a goal will not last all the way to the end because it’s hard to be an unswerving navigator when it’s incredibly easy to become distracted by the view of storms and dragons as well as the hope of finding a short cut to whatever we want. Even our smiles that beam so brightly will dim over time while our words expressing our determination will slowly be hushed as our thoughts grow louder with questions of whether we can locate those supposed flowers that come from nourishing transformation. Those same type of things happen for us when we have a plan to give something up because reworking what we have been used to includes rides through the weeds where we have to discover who we are without those loud, defining objects and parts. That requires us to leave what’s familiar behind and to enthusiastically plunge off of a cliff into a darkness that never guarantees our wishes will come true. Our heart journeys contain the details that have marked us and while we desire the dreamy adventure of blank pages to write on without their influence, that can also be an uncomfortable and scary part of each chapter in our narratives, another dragon of sorts to overcome. This is why it’s rather effortless to step back into the safety of what we have counted on despite not wanting some of what can be found living there or the yearning to move to where there will always be warmth from the sun. If you think about it, though, its kind a funny how change doesn’t feel impossible when it pertains to the things that we decide we will trek anywhere for, no matter how long it takes, and go through anything in order to have it. Maybe we feel that way because goals are often imperfect aspirations that hold a lot of our vulnerability while in the other aim, we walk with our already intimate colors and couple them with whatever polarizes us without much thought of what else will show up along the way. Both positions have objectives so perhaps it’s the emotion and our beliefs that make the former feel like a mirror that reflects what we had hoped to find but didn’t and the panic that we still might not be able to and the latter as the view of passion-filled traveling, where we don’t see what’s missing and our meandering seems purposeful. So, the word of the day is obsession, and the question is how can it now fit into your personal definition of change to move you forward? After all, it may be a prior tool, but you don’t need to leave it behind if it can be used as a shelter today. Thus far, you have actually proven that you are capable of being enfolded by rearrangements, but you’ve done so within your familiar comfort without necessarily noticing it. The journey is about taking what you already hold, adding to it by finding its different truth, and then stepping once again in the direction that you need to go. Remember, notes represent sounds and by placing them together, music is created and by reorganizing those identical notes over and over, millions of songs have been generated that say different things to different people. Your hues and your words are your artistry that, through a series of movements, can also fertilize that very exact same growth within you.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
There is something that feels so safe for us when we stay in the familiarity of who we are while also dreaming of the goal that we will be able to find ourselves on a different trail where transformation appears to be a warm and enfolding hug. That steady presence is like a shelter that we can retreat into even though we know it leaks in a chance of storms, encourages us to keep our eyes on recognizable views and the weight of it is exhausting. We endure carrying that intimacy with each step because it’s what we know, while attempting to visualize what renovations look like is really a vague concept in our constant and yet still hopeful state. Just the idea of revising ourselves produces anxiety and when our movements turn a yearning into something that we need to do, our thoughts alter that necessity into the verification that we are flawed, making trust in our ability to reshape ourselves show up as a vote of confidence on the impossible page. What we think about change and how it’s defined in our stories determines whether we acknowledge modification as an improbable project each time we pass by on our rides or as one where, eventually, we start adding different things to our seeds of trying to help them bloom. We don’t have to let go of the hand of fear in order to hold the supportive hand of courage because we can move forward while feeling both and know that each nourishes parts of us in different ways in the same manner that wanted and unwanted moments do. In other words, happiness isn’t a life where darkness and weeds are never found but rather the bringing along of a safeguard that prompts us to believe that the sun will greet us again with a hello once the rain moves on. Even blunders are not proof that amendments are out of the question but instead hold the connection that a measurement of discombobulated mistakes have been made during the trial, error and development of the making of a work of art. Remember, it wasn’t even possible to imagine what you would look like in this very moment from a position in the yesterdays, and even with a goal, envisioning yourself in the tomorrows is what is nearly impossible not that you are. Pleasant changes can feel uncomfortable and painful transformations are downright scary but if you can slowly add a word, a note or a color that you feel into its definition to make it your own, that particular dragon will lose its magical powers and bit by bit your walk will take you further than your continuous self could have ever planned or hoped for. Be in your heart journey because the strongest aspect of beauty is its gentle reminder that progress is messy and drawn-out, but every mark of its evolution is the creator of why it’s seen as a vision of loveliness. Where you have been was the best of you at the time, so carry that in a warm and enveloping hug for the reason that change isn’t about letting go of that comfortable black and white version of yourself, however it is about taking your time to expand it.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
What is it about flowers that draws us towards those prizes? Is it the certainty of their inspiring beauty that encourages us to want to be within their sight or to be able to hold them as our own? Or is it that they remind us to believe that a thing called hope is everlasting despite the chances of storms that stay for far longer than they should and the vivid dragons that tell us that we are indeed impossible? Or perhaps it’s that they intrigue us by finding ways to harmoniously intertwine within some terrains but then fail to thrive in other locations that could also benefit from their survival. Or just maybe the reason why we are so taken by colorful trophies is because the process of their weediness and withering is effortlessly ignored while the same kinds of notes are overly represented in the beats of ourselves and at times in what we perceive of others. It is easy for the voice of grace to shout for the things that will unquestionably transform into something that we yearn for and difficult for it to grow above a murmur in the midst of the weeds that latch on. It’s as if we have forgotten how essential the rain as well as the accumulation of debris is in nourishing every bloom but then appreciating the steps and the time that it takes for buds to develop isn’t something we have a lot of courtesy for. About a flower ago, my pulsations reminded me to take notice of the marks on my plots in order to get a glimpse of the value of what has been and how slowly, all of it has fertilized the new beginnings that have taken root in replace of them. Around one, two, three or many shadows before, your movements began to beat in tune with the types of tempos that silenced your words, stole your voice, altered your hues and closed the door to the place in your heart where you keep your dreams. You then began collecting your misfiring moments and surrounded them with the undesirable emotions whose rhythms accepted the roaring that said you were incapable. For every one of those sensitive heartaches, though, there were seeds of trying planted and while their sprouts are waiting for those fields to become welcoming, in this present moment they are standing by as the paused flowers that are hoping to bloom just for you. Remember, a smile isn’t only a grin, anger is merely one emotion that makes us see red and beauty has never cared if the sun is shining so keep moving your perception until your view discovers that both dragons and weeds lose their magic when fondness for yourself encircles them. Take this one word, one color and one beat at a time as your story goes.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
It’s the beats of our hearts that we feel and at times the tempos bloom with the sharp compositions of our rides while in other moments the rhythms reflect the soft notes that can also be found along the way. When the thorny sentiments climb, blocking the others from our view, they write in the colors that best represent what needs to be heard by us. Our minds will try to locate the words that make sense of those challenging harmonies, but they can’t really describe what our hearts carry nor the impression that those things leave upon us. By deconstructing our feelings with the terms that tend to underrate their importance to us, those personal reactions are encouraged to continue to hold onto our hearts and to get louder. As our sadness and doubt rise in that position, the phrases that emphasize that we are indeed impossible flow easily into our thoughts which in turn, translates into our feeling unsafe within ourselves. Fear has a way of convincing us that falling occurs because we lack the necessary tools to go forward but collapsing happens as a result of our inability to sit with our antagonizing emotions as they fluctuate with the pulse of their memories. In other words, we hold a thing called hope and we usually have some kind of plan, but our belief in ourselves is continually under attack by the perfectly imperfect feelings, another dragon of sorts, that we think define us rather than the missteps that we actually make. Those complex and colorful beats will remain in their fire-breathing state until we reshape them into either the supporting characters that light our way or the personas that merely fade into the background with the loss of their truth. Our epic tales contain every mark upon our hearts and minds, all the words that we have said and heard, each color that speaks for the palette of our emotions, every single note that has played when terms have failed us as well as any mystical beasts that we have slayed or are still battling. Whatever is on the next page or around the bend or in a bush with a thousand prickles or in a blunder along the journey, will be another beat in our hearts that expresses how we feel about that particular moment, and it can only become a weed when we offer that entry the magical power to decide who we are.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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