One foot in front of the other, slowly I proceed. I have no ropes or hands to catch me if I fall, yet I still walk on. “How can you tread blindly without knowing what will appear around the bend? What may become of you?” Fear and doubt well in my chest, yet I still proceed on. What is this force that draws me? Putting everything on the line, against my conditioning, and train of thought. A voice...steady and slow from within the depths of my being calls to me, “Do not be afraid...nature loves courage.” Slowly, I proceed on. As I journey further, tears begin to run down my face, I’m at the brink of something. My body, the mother to all aspects of myself, is shedding her old layers. Just as rodents are chased out of a dwelling, a great loss is felt by the home. But deep down, the home knows in order to thrive, she must release what is no longer serving her. A deep mortal cry is heard, piercing through matter. Unconsolable sobbing commemorating the pain and suffering of release. Through the waters of tears, joy is born, filling the great void and bathing the vessel in cheers of gratitude.
“To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don’t grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.”
-Alan W. Watts
"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."
"You can't direct the wind, but you can adjust your sails"