I have always been a man of the moon.
Whenever it decides to jump out into the sky, something in me calms.
Maybe it’s all of the memories of looking up at the night sky and letting my mind disappear into the stars. Or maybe it’s the evening walks in the dark listening to the whispers of my heart’s greatest desires.
But the nights have always helped me slow down and think.
They have given me peace. They help me understand the meaning of faith.
They’ve soothed things inside of me that the days just cannot touch. In the night, my hand begs for the pen and my mind starts to swirl in color. Who knows…it could be that there’s not much color in the evenings as the day is stripped of sunlight…so as my eyes take a break from my mind begins to run wild.
The night does something for me. I feel at home. I feel safe. But I remember when I was young that I always hated walking in the dark. I couldn’t “see” and that scared me to death.
But now, I see without seeing. And…in turn…know without knowing.
Something deep inside of me has stirred. A sleeping moment erupted in sparks as if I was struck by lightning. These types of moments would have set me aflame before, but as I’ve grown, I’ve learned how to channel all of that energy.
All of the excitement. All of the wonder. All of the mystery.
I’ve channeled it into my writing. I’ve let it bloom across what I’ve been creating. But that energy…it sent shockwaves throughout my body and I was breathing a different type of air.
Settle the stirrings within your heart.
Breathe deep into the colors running through your body.
Soften any tension that may be here.
Things are fragile…be ever so gentle.
As I started the journey of my life this year, I turned into something far different than anything I’ve ever expected. The man who resisted so much turned fluid. At times…ungraspable.
At times…like the wind.
I realized that throughout most of my life I was fighting a current that was trying to direct me to the place I was meant to go. I lacked patience. I lacked belief. I lacked being in the moment.
And yet, as time moved on, I learned these lessons and they became a part of me. I asked myself constantly…”What’s the rush?” and truly realized there wasn’t one.
I started to see stories unfold naturally, even if I was a character in them. I let them be. I let them sprout in their own time.
A year+ ago, I would have yanked on a flower to try to make it grow faster.
But now, I appreciate the timing of things. The beauty of how things always move at their own pace and there’s really nothing you should do to change that or try to manufacture an experience.
Because the experience in of itself is valuable…even if it takes longer than you expected.
To be fully in it, without changing it, is to make full contact with whatever is going on.
There’s something to be said for living in this way.
It’s turned a barren landscape in my life to a field full of wildflowers.
What could be more unreal than that?
As I continue to walk on this path, I’m reminded of the gift of patience – to truly see things grow in their own way and to not try to change it. It is also the mark of a patient mind if theres a deep sense of intuition.
The trusting of energies that come upon you.
And that, I trust now more than ever
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