It's the middle of the night. I'm sitting in bed, under the covers with my laptop. Somehow, the bed feels larger. Perhaps, that's because I feel much smaller, tonight, than I did this morning. Dear Reader, you cannot imagine how small I feel. My shame lingers in the spaces between words spoken; it stagnates, like the smell of something burning. I find it a challenge to examine my rather large and foolish error without judgement. Foolish ~ too harsh a word, maybe? Alternatives? Ill-Considered. Careless. Naive, even.
[Photo ~ taken on a sunny day here, in Vancouver a week ago]
It seems pointless to persecute myself. It seems purposeful and wise, though, to really take to heart and mind what I need to do, and gaze at it through the prism of wreckless, wanton desire (the force that fuels my error). I see, more clearly, the painful struggle one endures in the quest for Self ~ the self I think I want to be vs. the self God created me to be. The Wannabe seeks comfort by filling herself. The True Self seeks comfort in acceptance and through emptying herself.
I must begin to empty a particular falseness. Its a falseness that coats the Wannabe (entraps her, really) like a poisonous membrane. She must no longer fill herself with poison. She must purge. It feels like I must release my grip from the edge and fall freely away from the known precipice, toward the unknown, without fear or tension. When I let go, I will liberate myself. When I let go, my wings will carry me; I will feel such joy and peace ... and BLISS. Do I have the courage to follow the obscured and jagged trail that leads to the light?
This means challenging my self to compassionate, encouraging, genuine and hostile-free exchanges. It also means contemplating my reaction to the thoughts, feelings and expressions of others, prior to acting upon them. 
