The crack is not visible in the shadow. I’ve heard it’s the cracks that let the light in, but here in the shadow, there’s no light shining through. It doesn’t matter to me that it’s not visible, I know it’s there. I trust the crack.

I listen to the conversation while sitting in the shade. I hear the words while my body feels the sounds and tones used to give voice to the words. I drift from the conversation, recalling all the times I heard without feeling. The times I often responded with an apology for anything and everything. After all, that was the reason I was listening, so I could be informed again of my error. The times I listened and believed the speaker and discounted my own feelings. When I held onto the illusion that if I said or did what I was told was right I would be rewarded with the outcome, my expectation of being accepted simply for who I am. Everytime I listened to someone else and denied my own feelings the crack enlarged. No light came through until I remembered to trust myself, to listen to my body’s wisdom. 

I returned to the conversation, with both my mind and my body. The words, the tones, the body language were disjointed. I felt the light shining through the crack, even as the clouds blocked the sun. I held no illusion of my inability to heal, to affirm, to meet someone’s expectations. I heard the words and allowed them to move around me, away from me. Trusting the wisdom of my body and acknowledging my self-sovereignty. I felt my body radiate as I stood up, and voiced “Thank you, it’s time for me to go.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: