A Letter to My Soul & the Sacred Feminine.

You, who are a painting with so many glorious colours, I will thank you for the lessons that were smeared on the canvas.

You, who are the cuts and bruises, I will find ways to let you soothe and comfort me. But I will not let you coddle me, nor I you.

You, who are all my dreams, those realised and those left in the dust, I will take from them all the pieces and gather them into new dreams.

You, who are all the people I have hurt and who have hurt me, I will embrace fully, and I will let my shame and my anger be washed clean.

You, who saw all the houses I thought I could build a home in, to you I promise I will make myself an architect of my life and create a home even if it’s a hole in the ground because you are my home.

You, who see all my mistakes, my gross errors in judgement, know this: I will look them right in the face with my shoulders straightened and say, “You have no power over me, anymore.”

You, who witness all my doubts and insecurities, know this: I will fling them to the wind in remembrance that we are all flawed human beings, and I am no exception.

You, who knew that there was work to do but I stopped you, know this: I will pick it up now. The courage you tried to give me I will use as my lantern as I move into the dark to dispel it.

You, who gave me gifts I was afraid to use, know this: I will use them now. I will take everything you tried to give to me because I know you are mine and I belong to you. You had things to teach me, and I’m ready to learn now.

You, who watched me take people under my wing to try to save them, know this: I’ll let them go now, even though they’re only shadows now and figments of my imagination.

You, who witness the bittersweet memories, know this: I will write about them in order to exorcise them.

You, who are love, I know I held tight to my ego and to being right even when I was wrong. I release myself from those thoughts and I will let myself be held by love itself, and I will extend it.

You, who know me intimately well and hold my secrets, I know you will keep the homefires burning so I can find my way back from the wrong streets I turn onto.

And I know if I get lost, you will hunt me down and bring me back with gut feelings and synchronicities that I can’t ignore or avoid.

You, who I have neglected, I promise now that I will allow myself to be led rather than always being the boss.

You, who want the best for me, for you I will do my best.

You, who love the world and the humans on it, I know you want me to love, too, and to accept and to listen and to take in and hold people and their stories and see that they are sacred vessels within our shared humanity, that is both broken and whole.

You, who are justice, I know you want me to use my voice and I will do it, this time. I will speak without fear because if I am working with you, while being led by you, the danger is in my mind and my unhealed feelings about harm and death. I will face those fears and when I do, you’ll hold me even then.

I have nothing to fear when I step back and see through your eyes.

My own have seen things I will never understand, but I will keep trying.

I won’t give up.

Beyond reason, I know there is reason.

I will trust you, my soul, to keep me in contact with that which is bigger than me.

With that which is bigger than all of us.

One soul connected to other souls as we grow mighty in our loving, collective ways.

You, my Soul, you carry the wisdom and the secret words that tell me how to live life here on this tragically beautiful planet.

And you continue to remind me, in many ways, that we are not alone.

Even in turbulent, violent times, past the egos and the right fighting and dictators trying to control the human spirit, you remind all of us who are in touch with you that we are spirits in bodies, we are part of each others’ souls and all our souls are connected to something larger than anything in this world. And so we live on the planet, with our hands, feet and mouths doing the earth work for each other, together.

Together we will get it done.

It’s a long, dangerous, treacherous way there, but the flowers in the field of meadows we rest in on our way makes the journey home worth it.

Our souls lead the way through the darkness with its thorns and hazardous pathways and into the light which is waiting for us all to realise that we are already home.

This is our planet and we have a duty to it.

 

 

Author: Glynis Barr

Image: Pixabay

Editor: Callie Rushton, Eleditor