I woke up and ate a tangerine off a tree. I found some limes on another. I cut roses for my bedside. I put music on loud and went outside and danced with the dewy grass and the soft morning sun.
I worked in the garden. I weeded. I planted. I gathered avocados. I cut hibiscus and made two huge pots of tea. And then I took a bath full of flowers.
Y’all can have the goals and the plans and the purpose. You can “kill it” and build your empire and make your fortune.
You can go to war with all the things you think are the source of your suffering. And clamor after all the things you think will make you happy.
I just want to wake up with the sun. I want to listen to the birds. I want to put my hands in the earth.
Happiness wasn’t where they told me it was. Healing wasn’t where they told me it was either. I had to crawl through the dark on my belly. There was no path. There were no pointers other than the yearning in my heart and the feeling in my body. I let both lead me.
I’m not fancy anymore; I’m not wealthy, I’m not sexy, I’m not important, I’m not successful, I’m not special, I’m not cool.
But I am happy. And I am whole.
Pay attention to what they (the people and the culture) say will fulfill you. Does it really? Pay attention to what relaxes you, to what softens you, to what opens you.
Because there’s a trick. And it’s so easy to miss because we’re trained to always move away from our own stillness, our own depth.
I’ll give you a hint: There is absolutely nowhere to go.