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.
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