Healing is not a linear journey; & although the clouds have parted, & I find myself spending zero time looking back, there are days that the heart that beats within my rib cage lets me know that she is not done healing.
These days it's been beautiful; life is brighter than it ever has been, I'm connected deeper to self than ever before. I'm laughing harder, loving deeper, & feeling overall more magic than I've ever experienced.
Rising has been the single greatest feeling I have ever had the privilege of experiencing.
I'm touched these days, to my very core -- I'm often rendered totally speechless at the synchronicity of the humans I meet, the conversations I have & the gems of magic flowing through my life.
I'm humbled, I really am.
I'm not looking back, I'm not festering in anger or remorse -- I feel genuine gratitude for my path, my lessons, & my future.
But there are still the days that the repercussions of this massive forest fire hit me like a fucking tun of bricks, & I fall to my knees, & I cannot help but weep.
I'm not weeping for any other reason than the fact that in this moment my heart hurts.
It's the hallway of hell -- the world between worlds -- it's magic, & beautiful, & dark, & painful all at once.
Today has been so hard.
1760 stairs + one long hill, & a whole lot of emotional processing. Nothing is taking away the pain, but that's ok.
The pain is just the process, it's the teacher, & it's ok.
It's ok to feel the shadow.
It's ok not to always be ok.
It's ok to cry until there are no more tears.
This picture helps today, because I snapped this selfie 13 days ago when another wave of cloud parting hit my life (it was the 2nd wave of grace & cloud parting since the forest fire); & you know, it helps to remember the moments that life is so, so sweet because these are the sweet moments that become the light when days are dark.
Im in the darkness,
trusting the process, & taking the next best step.
Slow & steady.