I was gently prodded by a very special someone that I needed to start writing again. It is so true, from the mouth of babes great truth flows, a student suddenly the teacher. Again, I am humbled. Messengers come in all forms if you are willing to listen, willing to see, willing to believe. More often than not, the message is what you need at the precise time it is needed to be heard. The trick is to separate what you need to hear from the chaotic noise that all too often invades our lives, our minds, our beings, causing us to forget, lost in the darkness and shadows of Plato’s cave…
And so I hear, or rather see a gentle post from a gentle soul, an angel really, reminding me to not lose sight of the gift I have been blessed with. A gift that keeps me rooted in who, and what, I really am. It is a part of me, perhaps the better part of me, that all too often gets drowned out by life’s responsibilities and desires, needs and expectations. It was a part of me lost for decades under a sea of turmoil and neglect, drowning, a castaway waiting for a moment of calm to reemerge and be seen, recognized and nurtured.
Once a refugee lost in a wilderness of loneliness self –doubt, I have found sanctuary among like beings and friends who feed and nurture a once impoverished soul with hope and possibilities and love. Wrapped in the arms of like minds and kindred souls, I know life outside the cave is full of possibilities and light. Truly seen and accepted, I no longer have a need to hide. I am finally free.
It is these special someones, angels really, who continue to remind me who I need to be… just me.