"The wound is the place where the Light enters you."
~ Rumi
I began writing this a couple of months ago. Each day, I feel increasingly certain lasting change begins and ends with me. I am unsure what that will mean, but am more able to hold the tension in the uncertainty that surrounds that certainty. This is the paradox of life.
I change–
Proceed patiently,
Wisely,
Prudently,
Trust new road signs
Set aside vanity,
Proceed without ego
One that demands others change
And the me remains unchanged.
Real change–
Change of substance–
Feels glacial,
Is worthwhile,
Invites me on the journey
Casts a new light
Softly, oh so gently
Shines outwards.
Be present in each moment.
What I seek finds me–
No search required;
Sit and await its arrival–
It will be on time
Cease the chase,
The hunt concludes–
Rest in this moment
Only its reality exists.
