I did not expect it.
After the passing of many moons, through the long knowing of shadows and important, yet inadequate victories…
to end up where I started.
At first I thought it must surely be one of those pranks the universe so delights in gifting us with.
But it isn’t.
It’s difficult to explain…this being immersed in such an astonishing yet so humble a truth.
Perhaps acceptance. Perhaps something else.
The label isn’t important. What’s important is the almost ridiculously simple truth. Self-evident really.
It is we who bring the magic.
We alone decide whether or not to bring it and let it thrive on this fragile, muddy shore we call life.
Our truth, who we are, what we seek, who we love…the mystery and the knowing…might be difficult still.
Because you know…we chose against all that…or someone else did.
But it’s what it is.
And it’s ok because of this. This finding of tenderness and light at the tail end of error or loss.
I laugh and ask: “This is what you needed all these years to figure out?”
Another funny thing about all this. How the truth stands out when our hearts are crowded. And weary.
How even though we start out knowing, we must wander so far, endure the most complicated and dangerous journeys so as to see and understand the value of our simplest knowing.
We leave home in search of home, and of our words. How lucky we are to one day return and find the same ones.
And see how they are…fully, deeply, gently real.
These are my words:
“It doesn’t matter if everything goes well and makes sense; if we win or lose, if love makes a difference or doesn’t; if prayers are answered or ignored. It doesn’t matter who lives or who dies, who is blessed, who sees, who is blind, who bleeds or who raises the sword needlessly. We still get to choose: love or fear.”