I would like to be the kind of person who is striving to do what they say they are doing.
But I am restless, unsettled, divided.
The day begins and I am attentive. Creation is unfolding, evolving, always changing. She is teaching a lesson I resist.
I cannot deny my metamorphosis. Still, I desire some absolute stability. I want to grab hold of some perfect notion of life and never let go. But I can no more hold this moment than a flower can refuse its blooming.
Life is striving, reaching, becoming. Always in motion, constantly receiving; sensing, seeking, turning and yearning.
Meeting. Adapting. Adjusting.
Revise. Refine. Reform.
The journey is both brief and eternal. A terrible blessing filled with magic, madness, and mystery.
I breathe in deeply and I am transformed.
I exhale and Spirit blows where She will.