An ordinary day filled with moments of extraordinary spread across the Universe. The twists, trials, and miracles of life. The Karmic wheel ever spinning.

All that extraordinary filling an ordinary day.

All the (extra)ordinary is what makes life beautiful and tragic, (extra)ordinary is what makes life worth living. 

I breathe in and out. Each breath is ordinary, but it is extraordinary that I’m still here.

In my darkest moments, you show up.

Listening without judgment.

Seeing me at my worst, you saw past the glass in my hand and into my heart and always believed I could be better, even when I did not.

You are filled with beauty and grace, one of the strong.

Already carrying so much, you still lend your hand to lift others’ burdens.

You are love in motion.

I can’t imagine my life without you. 

And am grateful for you every day.

And I like the way you draw out the U when you say or type FUUUUUUCK.

The cracks in our hearts.

The wounds that open easily or never heal.

Our scars. The shiny raised roads, pathways of our journeys.

Our bodies. All the places we’ve been touched with love and struck in violence. The invisible marks and the bruises that make us beautiful.

These are the parts of us to be held gently.

The rawness and vulnerability we hide are the places where our light starts.

Light shining through the cracks in our hearts.

Light surrounding our wounds.

The light we hold within holds us gently.

Gently, because we are all broken beings of light.

It can be done.

I say those words out loud to myself.

It’s the thought that’s been dancing in my head for a while.

Shifting.

Changing something in a tiny way and altering the path.

Small shifts.

No grand sweeping changes. Those are too overwhelming.

No changing mindsets or feelings. That is too forced. That cannot happen overnight.

Shifting.

Saying no one time instead of yes.

Quietly and with love choosing what is best for me at that moment.

Allowing space to mourn the past but recognize one thought about the future.

With each small shift, walking a path close to the one I’m on, but slightly different.

Shifting from time to time, altering my journey.

Shifting until one day, I have walked away from who I was and have become who I am supposed to be.

I break the ground with my hands.

Digging deeper, I smell the secret sacred place the Earth keeps hidden.

I pause to dump a pile of dirt in my hair, running my fingers from top to bottom and smearing my face to make a protective mask.

I dig until the hole is big enough to hold my body.

I crawl in and bury myself.

The tears come.

Watering the soil around me, I feel safe inside the womb of my Mother.

I feel the vibration of life. 

Supported by her roots, I cry until I fall asleep.

I wake in the morning, emerging from my hiding place, renewed.

I kneel, fill the hole, kiss the ground, and whisper prayers of thanks.

I am hopeful, as time passes, flowers will grow from the pain I left within the Earth.

Blooming as proof that we survive even the worst pain.