Finally I am one step closer to realizing these dreams of mine.
I open the computer to catch up on all the things I couldn’t type before that stayed written down in pen on the pages of yet another book, almost full. And so I’m typing, and these words don’t seem like me. They were me just a few days, a few weeks ago, but we change, I change, so dramatically.
I want to find the still point. I want to be that calm and sturdy version of myself standing in the swirling grasses of a stormy field. I am more than just this story, more than just all my stories. I am becoming, always, yet I know there is a part of me that is the anchor, that waits, transfixed, watching, silently urging me on. I want to catch up, to go stand next to myself and hug myself. I want to ask a zillion questions of that version of me, but I know that would defeat the whole purpose. The lesson is to be still. The lesson is to calm the frantic mind. The lesson is to let go and then let go of letting go and just LET GO.