Who am I to ask for more than a moment of saying thank you for this life.

I guess I’ve been looking for validation in all the wrong spaces. All that ever mattered was if I loved myself enough to surrender to the ecstatic bliss of creation. Whether I was passionate about my pen hitting the notebook, or my body covered up by our twisted morning sheets. I looked for validation in expectant ways only to become sour when the taste that was displayed on my palate didn’t match what the chef made. So now I surrender, to my destiny and my worth. Reminding myself that as long as I love me, there is no form of validation that will satisfy me, for an outside perspective would limit me, to the karmic debts of a tethered tree. I am free to be me. In my quest for self love, no longer torturing my tongue with expectations of a mind that’s numb.

My mind is shifting, what was once confined between the parallels of time is now shaping and shattering in a distance as far as the minds eye can see, across dimensions and planes were riding the line, between who we want to be and who we have yet to become, always uncovering truths and returning to the internal refuge of a shelter made to withstand blistering storms and earth quakes. We shake from the core so the destruction can break the restriction, from the beginning it was up to us to uncover a new system, channeling the way, paving a path, driving our cars into mirages and mutilated images of where were going and what’s actually coming next. I’m trying to breathe through the jump, telling myself to go when I feel ready when I feel safe. Yet what about those who were stripped of their individual rights and properties only to live in a confined tragedy. The war happened within our own segregation of the mind. The moment we thought we were confined to the lines we have mined. Taking from the earth and trying to cover it with asphalt. What happens when we come from the earthly basement and relieve the structures that left humanity complacent.

I set fire to my own story and watched as the pages burned into a pile of dust. I release the words of pain and agony, resentment and regret, worry and disempowerment into the blackened smoke. Inhaling, exhaling, choking on the remnants of a silenced voice. I blew out the last of the flame to ensure that I had gotten what was left in my lungs. I am ripping out the pages of myself that I do not recognize any longer and stitching in a new parable. I am the fire and the ash. They will document how I came alive in my own destruction. And they too will remember how to ignite the flames of their own transformation.

Awakening in a frantic jolt like I’d been struck by lightning. Birds begin their morning songs bringing me to my present senses. The rising of a new morning is underway yet the air remains calm as the business of a Tuesday has yet to begin. My body senses some tension, I honour this present moment as it allows me to come home to myself. Tracing the lines of separation I have created, taking the eraser and clearing any trace of limited thinking. I cannot be confined into a cramped space beneath the root of the trees. I am meant to run rampant like the squirrels, fly free with the hawks and nourish the soil like the worms. All in one. Balanced. Grounded and etheric. This morning I give thanks for the presence of Earth. Heart beating strong with the memories of thousands of generations. Our ancestors living within the cracks and crevasses of our own heart, we kept looking within the tombs, yet they lay in the eggs of our enclosed womb. The prayer of a life to walk the land soon. I hold myself in respects knowing that what i choose each day sets the course of my actions. Remaining strong in this body I drift back to sleep as my prayers are carried to the mystery of life, great spirit, I am, ready.