Sharing From My Heart
Might I share a little piece of my heart with you? I shared this on my Instagram feed yesterday, and I felt it lent nicely in what I was trying to convey without spoiling my desire for grace.
My first marriage is now a faint memory to me, and divorce was the only approaching antidote of something on a grander scale. One can only live for so long on a one-sided love; two hearts were passing like ships in the night. I fought for the eternal element, which made my desire to remain together for decades much more fierce. But, to put it gently, we could not abide together.
During those years, I would return to my writing and painting. When the mire of my thoughts became too much, I would collect my diary and walk to the pond laden with beautiful swans. Essentially I was going home; each time I fled, I was home, living in my words; writing, pondering, meditating, reading and questioning. In those fleeting moments, I never felt happier. To keep it brief, he created within me a fierce drive to find my own truth that otherwise external traditions of religious, generational conditioning would have contrarily silenced. That element of searching has been absent from my life for many year's now. I am on solid and anchored footing. I am complete, but not by the world's standards, such as clockwork with no magic. My God is not your God; my God is in my details. Just as you see the wonder in a long stem red rose, I know that similarity in a dewy fragrant petal of the white gardenia.
When I opened up this space (rejoining Instagram) with you initially, and truthfully, I was pinpricked, wounded and shattered. Yet, I am slowly beginning to reignite and illuminate the light from within myself. Each time I write a caption, portions of my soul resurface. I believe my purpose is revealing itself, and I'll continue forth, dreaming, breathing and wondering. Something will come of it; undoubtedly, something will emerge.