Whispers Will Wander

  Lately I’ve been seeing myself as a constant recreation — a work of art that’s never finished. In Christianity, there’s this image of being clay in the Potter’s hands. And honestly, I do feel like clay… soft, shapeable, unfinished. But I also feel like I’m the Potter. There’s something empowering about realizing I can create and recreate myself over and over again. That I’m allowed to shift, to stretch, to be wrong, to evolve, to begin again. My only job is to stay flexible enough to be shaped — whether by life, by outside energy, or by my own two hands. I think that’s part of what makes children so magical. They don’t cling to “how it’s supposed to be.” They just know life could be different, and they stay open to possibility. If we started our journey crawling and believed crawling was the only way… we never would’ve stood up to walk. But knowing we’re always becoming gives us the courage to rise . And that makes me wonder: What if there is more? What if we are more? What if I ...

The winds blow and they are the winds of change. The leaves fall. I can feel it in my veins.  When I wake up the first place I want to be is outside. I want to smell and feel to exist and be held. Im here in the moments of stillness in the grounded Earth.  Finding balance, here is where you'll find me. It's so good.  It's so good, I don't even see it until I realize it's leaving me.  Knowing I'm going to be without it has me holding on to every single movement in every single moment.  I wonder can you be so present when you have so much time? I feel in awe and raw both welling and building and pouring out all at the same time. - Every fall is like a little death. I can't help but mourn for my moments outside.  Maybe that's all it is. Maybe I need to change my mind.  Because death brings new life, it's just all in time.  The winds of change are coming and they are here. So I hold on to this moment until it disappears...