Dearest…a love letter

02 Dec 2013 6 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

Dearest...Dearest…You don’t know it now, sweet girl, but in twenty years this dark place in your life will be no more than a shadowy memory.  If I told you of the immense joy that awaits you, the pain of the present would be too much to bear. But I can tell you that you do find yourself at last. You hit your stride. You finally realize that the person you tried so hard to be was never you, and you shed her like a snake sheds it’s worn out skin.

You’ll grieve, at first, for the lost years. But they weren’t lost, dear one. They are your story. The heat and pressure of them has refined you. It has burned away the superficial, the frivolous, and made you ready. The lessons that have seared themselves into your heart you will teach to others.  You’ll let go of everything that does not serve your highest good. In the end, you’ll regret nothing. You’ll be as light and free as air.

Your life will move to a place that supports who you are becoming. It will take you to the other side of the world. And you’ll be astounded that it feels so familiar, like coming home….

———————-

When my heart was breaking open and learning to love, I was overwhelmed with compassion for the person I had been. I wrote this letter to her. It was deeply comforting then, and it has become more and more true with the passing of time.

photo credits: wendythomasrussell.com

Returning

09 Jun 2012 3 Comments

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali, Poetry Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Longing
 
It haunts me,
calls gently.
Return, it says.
I don’t have to ask
the knowing is written
in my bones…
the longing
speaks more loudly
than love
or anger
or pain.
Return, it says,
to my green arms
to my heat
to my fragrance
to joy.
Return.
And I will…
soon.
 
This poem needed to be written. It was tight around my heart. I couldn’t put words to it because I didn’t know when. I didn’t know if soon meant weeks, months, or unbearably longer. Today I know. Weeks. I will return to Bali in July, in four weeks. That is just long enough to get a new visa. Just long enough to see friends one more time…just long enough.
 
I have never loved a place before. I’m trying to understand the improbability of it. Why this place? Why half-way around the world from everything I know?
 
 
Of course I explored the question in my discovery writing and the answer rang like truth when the words of it appeared on the page. With truth comes freedom. Freedom allows. And it is all about allowing ‘havingness.’ Havingness is about worthiness. Worthiness is about self-love.
 
There! Did you follow that process? Discovery writing unlocks truth. I love it! I created it and I believe in it. It has informed and transformed my life. And for those of you who have faithfully followed my blog, I am returning. Please come along!
 
 


Growth

12 Apr 2012 1 Comment

by writingforselfdiscovery in Bali Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I took a photo from my balcony that first morning in Bali. The tender young shoots of rice plants in the paddy below spoke of new beginnings, possibility, unlimited potential. They were like pre-schoolers marching in obedient rows, drinking deep of the nourishing mud at their roots.

Every morning since then I have eaten breakfast overlooking that same paddy, observing the subtle changes, drinking in the green of it, the succulence. I have seen it tended by barefoot women, bent all day over their task, mindfully pulling away what doesn’t nurture, what doesn’t belong.

And this morning when I sat down to breakfast and drank in the view it was like looking in a mirror I could so clearly see my reflection there. The seed of self planted here in the healing climate of Ubud has taken root. Things that do not belong to my truth, that do not nurture my growth, are being pulled away. I have met someone that I vaguely remember from a long, long time ago, a simple girl with poetry and passion in her soul. She got left behind when she didn’t fit the image I created for myself, the person I thought I ‘should’ be. We’re getting reacquainted. She’s a grown-up version with life-grit in her pores, not very pretty but very, very real. I am falling in love for the first time…with myself.

The rice paddy, too, has matured. She is a vibrant maiden now, full-grown but not quite ripe. I may not be here for the harvest of the rice. It’s not a plant whose growth I can predict with familiarity like tomatoes or corn. I’ve heard it has to turn golden before its time. I don’t need to know. It has fulfilled its purpose for me. Others will enjoy the fruits of its yield. My job is to show up for the reaping of my own late-sown crop.

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