It feels like I don’t remember my life and how I thought of it before I embarked on the journey I am now upon. It’s a vague memory of thoughts I used to have, anger I would hold, limitations I would feel upon every turn in my circumstances. Who am I to do anything, they would say. And I can’t. It’s not that I don’t face limitations; I face them often, but the way I respond to each failure, or each no is very different now. No is not a concrete no unless my heart says it’s no.
I do not lie down and see life as the enemy, but instead I ask life to show me a new path, a new idea or creativity, the way now. It is not frustration that holds me down, or feeling like I can’t move at all. Instead, I just move forward, I just take whatever steps I feel are in front of me.
I don’t ask myself whether I will get it wrong, or get it right. I just seek to stay until there is movement and then I notice myself doing something new once more. I don’t look back as often, unless it is merely to see my reflection of where I have been and what I can take with me.
The thoughts in my head don’t contain me the way they once did. And I don’t take no for an answer from the outside if my inside says it isn’t so. I stay with the desires in my heart until they seem to float into my life, one way or another.
There is a burning always looking to emerge, and it’s ablaze in the moments where I stay still and become the burn. But the emergence comes from the same place that I am. And then I can’t remember what the problem was, the worry or the shame. I forget all of who was to blame, was it them or me, for in truth it was neither.
I seek for myself in every corner, and in the rain, and the sunshine as it burns from the same place my yearning once burned. But I can’t remember the way that it was when I am here now. And that feels more solid than a million dollars.