We are hooked on the notions of what establishes someone as an artist, writer, hero, beautiful, determined, happy or grieving but when we place specific concepts into designated categories, we eclipse our ability to envision how we are and can be all of those things, in different ways, in our own stories. It’s so comfortable for us to view those depictions as living in the tales of others, but on our trails, they grow through the magic of what we pour into them and whether those thoughts and feelings are nourishing to our seeds or not. For instance, are there unswerving moments where your courage has sparkled such as your beaming smile does, or have you felt weak and been in mourning because that beacon’s light doesn’t appear to function within you? Or when it comes to art, can you throw caution to the wind and add lots of pigments to the mix to portray all of your emotions, or are you lost in the uncomfortableness of coloring outside of the lines as well as adverse to using strong hues to unleash what you feel? What, then, does perseverance hold in its plots that sings harmoniously for you or is that a word that you believe you can’t possibly bring to bloom because the rain has thinned your fertilizer so much so that there’s nothing left to encourage development? When it comes to beauty, how many terms can you affectionately list to describe your work of art in progress or is that chapter of love still waiting for you to look into the mirror to see the wonderful bits that keep going despite the marks that make you want to hide from that particular kind of reflective object? Then there is your belief of what makes a hero and the life that classification lives, in comparison to the authentic once unknown type of fighter who plants seeds of trying while battling dragons, trips through the debris of “f” moments and often feels fear although the occasional grin implies otherwise. How does knowing who you are through your heartbeats help you to live the story that you are? Well, our always enfolding relationship with the everything that is home within us is what provides the nutrients, piece by piece, to grow our joy as well as our self-control and being disconnected from that information leaves us off-course in the midst of sunless chaos. So, empty spaces, definitions that don’t fit or are missing, lack of color-wash and old melodies are what cause those necessary heart items to feel absent from us rather than it being a grouping of our prickle moments that would have us believe the idea that the presence of their darkness means it’s impossible for our fields to flourish with what we need in order to go through. Strong links furnish us with a soft place to fall when our stumbles happen in the weeds or in conflicts with mystical beasts and at the end of the day, you are going to feel some way so it might as well be a position where you embrace you with understanding. After all, we are harder on our own wellbeing than any of our dents could ever be because when we view those things, what we see are the impressions of flaws but what’s really there are lots of small points of light asking for us to become familiar with what has been once unknown.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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