There are 8 billion (and counting) paths to travel in this world. Is that delightful to your way of seeing things, slightly intimidating, or simply wrong, wrong, wrong? There was a time when I might have found myself in the last category, when my way, the way I was raised to be, the way that I was certain was the path to happiness and peace was the right way.

Thank God! life showed me its beauty in the meticulous array, the heterogeneity of our homogenous humanity. We are stunning, indeed, and far more than we are willing to openly admit. 

It’s okay to claim the beauty, to stand up and say, I’m here! There is no rule that you can’t. Isn’t that grand! What rules there are, are totally made up and only have power as long as they aren’t questioned. Beliefs too! No rules here either! You don’t need to believe, or not believe anything, and it’s a mystery as to why you do or don’t. It’s quite stupendous that you don’t have to behave in ways that meet with anyone’s approval.

If only I’d known all this years ago! 

You (and therefore I) are free to be who we are … unless we aren’t, unless we still believe in other’s opinions, other’s power over us, but even then, we are free to be who we are, to resonate where we do, to see what we see, even if that is the freedom to not be free. 

What I’ve noticed is that I am not free until you are (whether you realize it or not, whether you capitalize on it or not), until my judging mind sets you free. Anything I judge in another is really a flaw I see in me, something that I haven’t tended yet, something I don’t want to deal with, or admit to, let alone accept, so if I’m judging you, I am playing the freedom game but wearing the collar of shame. 

It’s fascinating to watch the mind, to flow with it consciously, to walk its winding path without censure just to see where it is wandering off to tonight. It’s a grand escapade, although I admit, not the easiest of trips. To let it be without attempts to waylay the wickedness, or imprison the mischief maker, or tamp down the trauma, takes courage and a stout willingness to meet the devil within.

It’s not really a red-hot horny beast that lives inside, tempered by an angel fighting with the devil for the soul. It’s the fear of being found unworthy, of being judged inadequate, of not being enough, of being unloved and wholly unlovable.  It’s the fear of never getting it right, of dying without having truly lived, of being an utter and complete failure.

There are so many things that animate the red-hot flow of judgements, but evil isn’t one of them. At the core, it’s always the wound. Thoughts wrap around the wounds of our pasts, the decisions we continuously berate ourselves about, the stupid, stupid choices we made, the I should have known better, done better, seen what was happening tales we tell ourselves.

Add to that the literal fear of being here, here in the land of fear, here where death is certain and pain inevitable, plus the hardships certain to come, and you have a recipe that calls for ignorance, for sticking your head in the sand, for turning and walking away.

But you don’t!

How crazy is that!

To every single person who is still standing, who is taking a step forward, even baby steps, into the heart of their own darkness, I want you to know that you are magnificent! Your courage is inspiring! You my loves, simply and absolutely rock!

Don’t you believe those lies you’ve been telling yourself. You are beyond worthy. You are sooooo loved. You are love itself.     

I adore you!