Shadows

I seek to empty myself, to become so quiet and so peaceful that I become a prism for all the light around and through me, allowing it to be what it is. Allowing myself to see I AM in all the single oneness of being.

It is not easy for me, especially when I am focused inward, on all the myriad tasks of resettling into a new community. Finding the balance between what is necessary to survive in my ego world where rent and food and creature comforts seek levels that are perhaps higher than they should be, and the soul world, or real world.

It is the old eye of the needle story. Am I the rich woman with a rich woman's woes and a rich woman's worries? Or am I a poor woman in a rich country, trying to keep my head above water? Sometimes I just feel overwhelmed by feeling. Love that is too powerful, caring that is too much, fearing that which is too close. Like a rose buffeted about by a tornado, I am impaled upon my own thorns because I fear I will break otherwise.

The prism is too heavy for this poor traveler. I must first become a pine needle floating down a river. Surrounded by light and movement, the breath of being and the joy of freedom. It is a start, but the shadows are all around me. I suppose anything that lies between me and the light will create shadows, so they are simply a reminder of the work I need to do.