Here we go! My very first blog post
For a while now, I've been contemplating starting a blog. I want to get clear, mainly for myself, on my intention for doing so. Although I am called to tell "my story" I recognize that we all have "stories" and that mine is no more dramatic (or traumatic) than others. But it is different. And I have realized a lot along the way. I want to share practices that have helped me get from "there" to "here" (brilliantly, I might add) I want to give others permission, through inspiration, to do the same. But where to start?...As I sat down and pondered this question I came back again and again to making this into an open journal/scrapbook/art project that shares my heart.
For years I've been keeping journals. They contain "my story" written at the time it was happening - some of it's poetic, some of it's doodles, some of it's what I call "messages" or wisdom I've gained mainly during meditation. I'd like to share some what's contained within them. I never thought I would share them - they were for my eyes only - and so they are inspired and vulnerable and imperfect and come from a space deep within. I also might video blog, I might post photos I've taken. I might share wisdom or practice tips that I've gained from my yoga practice. IDK and that's awesome! I want this to be a ever flowing, ever changing peek into what inspires me. So here we go!
I wrote this several years ago at a time when I was beginning to understand that I had a resistance to fully facing hard realities. I now understand that the only way to get through something is to look at it closely - in all it's beauty and ugliness. They say that hardships are actually presents wrapped in sandpaper....we can't exchange them but we can learn to be grateful for the wisdom they contain.
The blind bubble -
I’m floating in my bubble – I don’t want to open my eyes. With my eyes closed I can stay safely in this pocket of comfort I’ve found. I’m ok... Things are safe inside my bubble.
I try not to recognize the looming shadow that presses against my bubble... my safety...my security. Turn your head, overt your eyes....
The shadow is ugly and scary and unforgiving. It grows bigger and darker and more formidable. It forms into a storm.
My eyes are still closed – maybe if I squeeze them tight the storm will pass.
Lightening strikes my bubble. It pops – no, it shatters. Tiny chards of my safety fall to my feet. My bubble is gone. I can’t breathe.
“ Breathe, ” commands a small voice. It’s a small faint whisper. It whispers to my soul. My eyes blink half open and I gaze around.
Truth is here. “Look around you”. Truth says. “Open your eyes fully and see that you are free of your bubble prison.”
A healing rain, cleanses my self - doubt. There is life beyond my shattered bubble. It is where Life begins. A Life that I couldn’t have known without the storm
