I’m letting go of control. After flying all day and having flights changed all over the place I’m getting hit over the end with the fact that it’s not my plan.

I spent yesterday going down old roads of unworthiness, fear, and anger.

How long before I realize that my worth cannot come from outside of myself, that only I can keep me safe, and that safety is an illusion?

Perhaps it makes sense old stories would confront me the day before we flew. Perhaps, this too is part of the initiation.

I slept for 12 hours last night. Fell asleep listening New Age Hipster’s cord cutting meditation. I haven’t slept that long or soundly in months.

I woke up with a sinking feeling realizing we hadn’t packed lightly enough, despite repacking and trying really hard. …And I think that’s part of the journey too: understanding the weight I still carry and making space for what can be let go.

Then we met a woman at the departure gate with a huge smile on her face and a lightness of spirit. She travels the world with a small pack on her back and is about to walk to Machu Picchu. She steered us away from a place we’d planned to stay in Crete—I quickly booked us longer into the place she said was awesome!

…And then she told us about bees who drink nectar from thyme, and I remembered why we were going.

To find my poet’s soul again
To let go
To dream new dreams
Find new ways to carry and
Be carried by Divine grace


 

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