We found this brillant article on http://www.rebellesociety.com/2013/06/12/you-are-perfectly-flawed/ and want to share it with you:
“I prefer by far the warmth and softness to mere brilliancy and coldness. Some people remind me of sharp dazzling diamonds. Valuable but lifeless and loveless. Others, of the simplest field flowers, with hearts full of dew and with all the tints of celestial beauty reflected in their modest petals.” ~ Anaïs Nin, The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin.
Who are you? She peered closer at the distorted reflection. The mirror was a mirage. She poked the image and it rippled. Surprised and fascinated she touched the liquidity substance.
“You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” ~ Max Ehrmann
She stepped a smidge deeper and peeled thin slivers of her psyche like a freshly plucked allium. Layers of delicate ripeness unfolded. Green, fresh, raw until she held a white bulb of vulnerability in her hand. It was her heart.
Her reflection changed into filaments; shape-shifting effortlessly like indigo clouds over an alabaster sea. She closed her eyes and quietly welcomed her breath. Her hand rested lightly on her chest.
Listen to your breath. Feel the rise and fall. Center yourself. Breathe through another set of images. Hold onto your inner walls. Plant your feet firmly into the earth. Scoop the energy vibrating nearby. Lift your arms high and release.
Her heart pulsated. It was tinged a lovely shade of pink. Joy. Love. Forgiveness. Each surfaced from inside.
Perfect is an illusion. Flawed is more accurate. You are perfectly flawed as you sip the essences of flowers, rose petals become your lips.
Nature doesn’t make mistakes. Chasing perfect – time, person, moment, class, book — will shortchange the moment of Now. Rest within your Sistine Chapel of architectural imagination. It will gladly assist in dismembering the negative fragments that blow around you like dandelion fluff.
Where are you going?
You are in the here and now. It is perfect even when juggling a disjointed dance of the unknown.
“In all chaos there is cosmos, in all disorder a secret order.” ~ Carl Jung
Your life, path, journey and voyage intermingle with heaven and hell. It isn’t a coincidence that joy dances with anguish. You will learn from both.
Filling the void of What if? When? Where? isn’t always the answer. Seeking answers from the outside creates a distraction to avoid knowing the responses from within.
Stop. Listen. Be.
Challenge yourself to listen to your own voice. It is like hearing your heart crack open into a volcano of awe. It swells and rises, the continuum eliminates the statistical bell curve of average. You are no longer tethered to the chains that lock your heart.
This is now.
The cosmic key is love of self which leads to loving others. Serendipitously, we seek love and dip our toes in waves of raw honey. Its sweetness is pure. There is definition in knowing and loving self. Letting go and accepting the generational lineage etched in our cells.
Rebirth. Renewal. Reincarnation.
“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.” ~ Franz Kafka
We are no longer scorched by the blemishes that embellish our uniqueness. We embrace the funneling of our revolutionary way. We stumble, fall, crash, disengage, reconnect, learn, regain, climb, catapult and soar. Rinse. Repeat. Stretch out and dry your solar plexus in the sunny spot of loving yourself. It is warm and real. It is a reboot of our inner core of worthiness.
I am worth it. You are worth it. Surrender. Live. Breathe. Sing with wild joy. Dance and scare the hell out of everyone because you are in love with yourself. It’s a wellspring which won’t run dry.
“You’ve always had it my dear….You’ve always had the power.” ~ Glenda the Good Witch. Wizard of Oz.
Life is marvelously bittersweet, tragically incomprehensible and difficult to describe. My story gratefully intersects with yours as we meet on this path. My lineage of mistakes and mishaps are a gift. Each take on a new swirl; it’s all part of a greater plan.
It feels astonishing to lay back and laugh in the creases of the wind. I juxtapose the endorphins in a cataclysmic escape through a portal in time. It’s moments like these, carpe diem has a ménage à trois with the sides of self no longer dormant but awake.
I won’t be held back any longer. Try capturing a prism of love in a bottle? Impossible.
“I am rooted, but I flow.” ~ Virginia Woolf