letting go

it's just practice.

sometimes what seems like

the main event

is just meant to be practice.

much is coming undone in order to show us what’s underneath. things that were likely always there— things we didn’t want to see, weren’t able to see. things somehow withheld from our view.

death and rebirth are extending us a grand invitation; one that requires our active participation in both dying and birthing/being.

grieve your old paradigm.
recognize its place in your path.
then, let go.
let go.
let go.

forget all stories, norms, beliefs, declarations, and defaults about you and your life.

retire the operating principles you’ve been holding true as a matter of course, without question.

imagine you, your mind, your history a clean slate.

you are reborn with every new breath.

anything can happen from here.

accepting others as they are

photo // CC0

photo // CC0

in the past year, i experienced one of the most profound pains of my life; through it, i came away with many gems. i've been grateful for one in particular lately: 

a newfound ability to truly receive, love, and accept people as they are.

i find myself disappointed less, and when disappointment does creep up, i'm much better equipped to reframe;

what is actuality? what are my projections, my expectations, my ego? who would i be without these expectations — who would we be?

i've been especially in awe of my ability to let go without apathy, disdain, or spite — or at least much less of it; a subconscious shift that recognizes the subtle difference between releasing and detaching.

to let go yet still sustain connection, care.

related and bizarre is a willing acknowledgment and acceptance that anyone and everyone has the capacity to surprise me, let me down, stray from course, and to deeply hurt me — i don't hope for it but i yield to a certain inevitability now; it's just not personal anymore.

at one point, i would have considered accepting this reality lonely; instead, i find an odd comfort in knowing that i can no longer be side-swept by a hopeful ignorance that my loved ones won't one day go out and be extra human. lifting the veil has also empowered me to renew my commitment to myself as my own greatest ally; now that i know that for real for real 'all i have is me,' i find solace in also happening to be the one thing that i do have control over.

though i've only just begun to cultivate and strengthen these shifts, i'm already moved by the felt peace, openness, warmth, and lightness they've inspired in myself and those around me; in many ways, i feel new — and so do my relationships and my life.