Since graduating from the EDGE program I've had precious little to say or write. I've only had a few ideas coming to me, and more than a few problems have popped up. Some I should have ignored and other needed my immediate attention.
To clear my head of all the stuff I thought I needed to do, I decided to do none of it and go to Phoenix, to see my mom and dad, daughter, granddaughters and friends.
Their love, their unbridled, we're-glad-to-see-you-love, was a great gift and it set something free in me.
Two days of Phoenix reminded me of who I am; loved, whole, brilliant, sought-after, fun, profoundly interested in my friends well being, a manly-man, martial artist, husband, teacher, student, lover, vampire (don't ask), writer (do ask), adventurer and someone who is ready.
I feel like this whole time God has been whispering, "Relax, relax, relax young one. It's going to work out." And I've been saying, "Are you sure?"
I'm sure now.
Nailing this moment down and then releasing it to the future me and the future you. To say, "It's all, already worked out."
Returning home, I can feel the weight of something slipping towards me, to cover me.
Whatever that is, slipping towards me is the thing I use to block miracles from coming to me: it's the weight of responsibility, of all the things I thing I have to do.
Irresponsibility smells like sweet wine to me. Intoxicating, leaving me wanting some of whatever it is. Leaning into the face that breathes it and wanting to fall into it, to embrace it.
So as I slip towards responsibility and the world of being (not) deserving, I see that this is a world I have built brick by brick. And it seems heavy because I have made it heavy.
And how instead of running from my responsibilities and trying to free myself from these bricks I can turn each brick into gold.
I can enjoy the luxury of the world I have built and instead freeing myself I can give the gold away, one brick at at time.
In a single breath I reclaim my life as I have done many times before and I breathe and love. And that is all there is to do, and all there ever is to do.
I feel something slipping towards me and it see that something is me, and I am free