These barren lands (teeming with life).
There are questions that plague me. Questions that make me look at who I am and how I view myself and the world. Questions like: what is it that matters to you today? What do you see in other people that you so long to be yourself? Who are your heroes, your role models? What do you desire from others that you yourself can be for them?
When I was 14 I used to write the word "Inspired" on my wrist, almost daily, because that was all I desired out of life. I dreamed of one day tattooing it on my body. How passionate I was about that one, simple word. Inspired. I wanted to live an inspired life, a life of freedom and adventure; a life of travel, love and abundance - and I have. I believe that because I chose to hold that word close, because it was something that was inherent deep inside me, it became my reality.
LA is a land filled with spiritual talk and introspective exploration. It's interesting to me, having been a part of so many tribes across different lands, the words we use and how they are relevant to our location, our journeys and our friends. Something like the word "hold". I love having been given new language for what I've always known is important. Dwelling on, meditating on, holding a thought, belief, desire.
And perspective, too. Perspective is such a powerful tool. I'll be the first to admit I've lived the last few months in a place of constant up's and downs. It's been breathless highs and deep lows, but all of it beautiful.
I am learning to let go of fear. The fear of what my journey might look like to those I care about. The fear of being different from who I was. The fear of releasing security (spiritual as well as physical). The fear of not measuring up. and the very real fear of the answers to questions I am asking.
What if God isn't who he says he is? What if I never accomplish my dreams?
I desire nothing more than to be honest, both with myself and with you (and I am also cognizant while typing this that perhaps my perspective is scewed. Perhaps I should be asking the question, "what if God really is who he says he is?" "How can I, today, take one step towards my dreams?" - that is a much better place to be living from, I suspect). And it makes my swell with emotion at the forming of these sentences - it's such a desolate land, these words. but I know I'm not alone. I know that out there people are asking the same questions. Venturing into the same seemingly barren lands.
But the horizon is hazy with the coming rain. The onslaught of that grey downpour is imminent. A refreshing washing of every part of me, a deluge of which is closer than skin. My soul cries out. Each evening brings a cool breeze where I know, in my heart of hearts I am safe because those who seek will find.
I've stepped into a new adventure. One where I say yes to allowing myself to question everything. One where I allow truth to speak for itself. One where I stop speaking and instead listen. One where I love without question, and one that, yes, might look different from what it ever has before, and is terrifying if I'm honest, and one where I feel like a constant mess, but one that must be walked.
So I sit here. Asking questions. Allowing myself answers. Putting to death everything I thought I knew and allowing fresh revelation to wash across my very existence. It feels like death, over and over. My soul wants nothing more than to explode out of this feeble body and into the great expanse of heaven - to ride the wild zypher and to end this bewildering experience, at the very same time I covet the challenge.
I know truth will win out. And perhaps it isn't a truth that can be categorized or compartmentalized, but it will be the real, raw, authentic truth of which is the only thing that can sustain my soul.