Sunday, October 30, 2011
I know so much about fear and I know so much about anger. I'm a student of rage and worry. I've worked so hard to do a lifetime of unlearning and shed myself of the claustrophobic voice in my head that tries to convince me that I am terminally unique---far off and alone and not part of it.
But after aaaaaaaall of my study---after all of my reframing and journaling and rigorous examining and therapatizing and owning and co-creating and responsibility taking---I've come to know that The Separate Angry Fearful Voice is a big piece of lying doodoo, so as I take my own hand and I place it to my own chin and I lift my face up in order to look out above and over the expansive, unending landscape my prayer for myself is that I continue to unravel my puzzle prison thoughts and that I am able to cultivate the remnants of bravery I know I've always had so that I can keep my heart open in those moments when I forget who I truly am.
Please do not raise your hand if you have a question,