We circle.
ย I write this to you from a place of raw vulnerability. I am still fresh from the experience and so I write to you. I write to get out of my head. To put it into an existence other than my own. I write to give it energy and life so it may live and breathe on so it stays alive. I give you this experience because my
Touching Justin Timberlake (and other spiritual stories). Oh..and a give away!
I was introduced to vision boards when I was about thirteen. It was the most magical concept I could have ever been introduced to. This friend of my mother's told me how if I cut out pictures and words and paste them into a journal or notebook, and looked at this and felt the emotions and feelings that were created from this collage, that I could have
My battle.
I had been in battle for months. I had fought and fallen. Risen and took on another. I had walked into the arena with heavy armor. It was all so heavy. My shield and my sword. I never realized how heavy it was before, but now, it seemed to keep me from being quick and maneuver the way I intended. I should drop it. Let it go. I
I do it with my eyes closed.
I haven't been particularly awesome at feeling. Feeling emotions, feeling love for myself, my body, my being. I was reading a few weeks ago, and in this moment of mid-paragraph, these thoughts started to flood my mind, so I picked up my journal and scribbled it all down:: "We continue to seek connection with that we assume is outside of ourselves-Source, Spirit, God, The Universe. We search outside
She Surrenders.
She stands tall. Naked and vulnerable. Open to the elements and unforgivably strong to the wind. She bares her imperfections. She realizes now they make up her soul. It wasn't always this way. This knowledge. This trust and faith she has year after year. She remembers the first time she was stripped down. To the bare branches. It was cold and she felt vulnerable and open. Open to criticism of
Dear Jessica, My answers are in blue. Love, God
I have these moments of clarity when I am looking for answers. Its usually when I am the most quiet. The most centered within myself. The noise is turned off. I can hear me. I woke up the other morning with one phrase of a song playing in my mind. It played over and over again. And then I listened to what that phrase kept saying:: Don't
Send her love.
She has been with me for as long as I can remember. She doesn't have a name, but she has this immense, powerful presence. She lingers too long in some moments, and too short in others. I've never imagined her to look a certain way. In fact I've never seen her face. But this voice of hers. Its so loud sometimes. Mean, in fact. She criticizes me in
Me.
I kept searching for this perfect blog post. Like it would come in a dream, and I would wake up and angels would sing and I would frantically write it down in my journal and poof! there it was. It didn't happen like that. If fact, it didn't happen at all. 6 day, 48 hour work weeks for 4 weeks will do that. So when I kept thinking