Sometimes we become so tangled in another’s ball of string that we cannot find our own thread.
Our adult life is a quest to untangle from the stories and mythologies we have been seduced into thinking are our own.
To find, in that jumble of noise, the clear present voice that is ours, uncontaminated.
Like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack, this is the work of discernment, questioning, staying open.
Any time we become rigid in a belief, transfixed in a form of absolute righteousness, we are approaching the peak of brittleness. If we are attentive enough, it is at this point, where our ability to see another possibility has been entirely squeezed out, that it might benefit us to relax, breathe, and open.
Mostly though we fight. We build a barrier on the barrier to the wall of possibility. At some unpredictable point it will break.
Finding our own thread is a relaxation. It is a return down, into our depths. It is not found through the edifice of another. It is found through the willingness to become the Source we seek in the world beyond.
Photo Taken December 17th 2014
Beauty Of Beginnings
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