Tuesday, April 3, 2012

In This Place, there is only love.

In this place, there are hearts breaking. Open.

In this place, there are dreams dying, to awaken.

In this place, there is only love. Waiting. Patiently.

I am at The Haven. A beautiful, serene, and healing place on the water. Ocean breezes waft in from the waters lapping tranquilly at the shore, carrying with them the stories of far off places. Stories of loves lost and found, of  distant shores explored and far-away harbours yet to be visited.

This is a magical place and in its mystical waters, I find myself coming home, once again, to who I have always been, have always been called to be. Because in this place, I am all of me. Dark and light. Yin and yang. Beauty and the beast. In this place, I am Love. I am all that I am meant to be. Can be. Want to be. Because, I am.

I have come here, not knowing why. It is a gift from someone I love. A gift to cherish. To hold onto. To let go of. To be within and experience the unfolding of what is. To witness its unveiling. To witness what is being revealed, uncovered, disclosed from within me as I follow the gentle and loving steps of our guides leading me deeper into the forest of memory, of possibility, of the promise of what can be when I let go of believing the darkness of the past is where the light shines brightest.

It is in the light I find the courage to shine. It is in the light of loving myself as I am, I find the promise of being all that I can be when I embrace that this is not as good as it gets.

There is always possibility.

There is always the promise of more. Of openness expanding. Of horizons widening.

Yesterday, I told a small group of people that I feel so incredibly blessed in my life. That is a beautiful way to be, someone answered. And it's true. It is.

I am blessed.

Through all the storms I've weathered, through all the rocky ground and turbulent seas I've crossed, I keep coming home to me. To the one I am. The one I have always wanted to be.

In my Soul of a Pilgrim course I am taking at Abbey of the Arts, we are invited to explore death and dying this week.

The past dies every minute, yet in memory, I keep it alive. To transform the past, I must let go of believing it exists today, in this world. 

The past doesn't exist today. It is gone.

What remains of the past is simply the value, the meaning I place in it today. It is in my power to transform what was into love and joy today. And in that love I become blessed by all that life has to offer in this moment, right now.

I am at The Haven. I am in Love.


The Writing Goddess said...

You know, I skimmed your post, pausing briefly to look at the beautiful photo of the ocean, thinking, "Bah! Love, dreams, openness expanding, poppycock! I got bills and worries, lady!" (Actually I thought a stronger word than poppycock.)

Then I looked at the picture again, remembering the sound of waves on the shore, the scent of the ocean. And reread the post. This time, it made a little more sense.

Back to the ocean, back to the sea, back to remembering there are cycles, and there is permanence, and all is well, all is as it should be at this time, in this minute.

We are all blessed. Thank you.

Jennifer Richardson said...

what a beautiful place of shelter,
a little stopover on journey
shining sweet light
on weary travelers.
I imagine you up in a lighthouse
during a storm
(have always loved that image)
love and restful peace
to you,