by Emma | Nov 22, 2019
It always surprised her, how many layers there were. It seemed like a never-ending journey, because it was, and she could understand why so many people chose to live in ignorance of themselves. It seemed so much easier sometimes. To shut her eyes to her many, many ‘imperfections’, her wounds and her triggers, and pretend they belonged to someone else, some environmental reason that caused her upset. If it was something outside of her, someone else’s fault, it was someone else’s problem. She could just remove herself and dampen the feeling of discontent a while longer.
But she didn’t have that luxury anymore. She realised now that everything was on her. Everything was her choice – to choose how to perceive it. To revel in the gift or dispair in the poison. She had that power, and everytime she chose to deny it, she gave her power away: gave her power to the person, or the place, or the job, and put it outside of herself where she couldn’t use it.
She wasn’t doing that anymore. She had allowed herself to breathe into situations, conversations, energy that challenged her every pore….and looked, with curiousity instead of fear, at which patterns she found herself wanting to follow. When she allowed herself to be curious, when she allowed herself the space to feel the patterns instead of fearfully burying them, she gave herself the space to choose differently, to give a voice to what was present, and honour it as part of her, before choosing a different path. This, she realised, was how to change the pattern
by Emma | Nov 21, 2019
She was so tired of her own mind creating problems. So tired of making meaning of things, and holding onto judgements so she could remain frustrated and annoyed with others and the environment. What good did it do her? Was it helpful for her to continue to hold so tightly to her righteous indignation of the arbitrary concepts of right and wrong?
And of course, the answer was no. So what was she to do, with the judgements and the opinions and the righteous indignation, except let them go?
To be in the moment, in breathing out without the heaviness of holding on to something which caused her only pain, she felt peace. In the release of the contraction, there was the space she’d been trying to create through force and pushing and the changing of things that are, how they are.
In the space, she realised the peace was there all along, and felt grateful for the annoyance that allowed her to find it
by Emma | Nov 20, 2019
She was not alone in her wandering. She wandered, sometimes with purpose, sometimes without, but no longer alone.
She had found within herself an inner strength, a reserve she didn’t know was there, a sense of integrity that was raw and often triggering for those around her. And yet, in this integrity, in this honesty of knowing who she was, in the sharing of all of herself, even when she most feared she would be laughed at, she found comfort, strength and solace.
In this honesty, she also found the people with whom she felt at home, those who chose to love her because of everything she was, those who cherished the moments when she was raw and vulnerable, and honoured the courage it took to share so much of herself.
So, even when the way was unclear, and in the wandering she still sometimes found herself looking for home in a place or a person, she could remind herself of the home within her, of the peace that came from being honest with herself. That was enough
by Emma | Oct 23, 2019
I will choose love. Over and over and over again. Even if it seems to hurt. Even if I don’t understand why. Even if there are a million reasons not to. I will choose love. Over and over again
by Emma | Oct 23, 2019
For all those moving through feelings of anxiety, or those who have loved ones who are…. “And this is the place….the place I hate….where my throat tightens and I feel uncomfortable in my own skin and sometimes it’s hard to breathe…. And I thought I was over this. Every time it happens I think I’m over it, and then it happens again. Over nothing. Old triggers. Boring wounds. The same shit.
I’m bored of myself. I don’t want this anymore. This isn’t protection. It’s poverty. It’s taking away from my life and making me forget how far I’ve come.
I am not this. I am not a feeling. I am not anxiety. I am peace. I am love. I choose love. I choose to be wrong. I don’t need to be right or feel justified in this. I can let it go. I can choose again. I do choose again
