0

Comments

Rewind to May of ’95: Two business deals that I’d worked on for months collapsed and for the first time, I called my dad for rent and grocery money. I had just wrenched myself out of one of those hurt-so-good romances that left us both raw and resentful. My ’69 Fiat Spider croaked on my 40 mile daily drive to the office. A friend in-need had set up camp in my small living room, so if I needed a good cry I had to do it in the shower. I took a lot of showers.

I was moaning to a friend (she paid for lunch), “I can’t take any more.” Sniffles. Silence.
“That’s a thought form. You’re bigger than that,” she replied. I was shocked.
“My life is falling apart and you think I need to toughen up?” I said.
“You’re tough already. You need to expand.”

That advice cracked me open like an egg. Of course I could take it; it was life… my life. Bring it on, I began thinking. And as I stretched to appreciate the darkness, there was room for the light to come in.

THIS WEEK’S POETRY FOR EXPANDING:

Sometimes everything has to be inscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you.
- David Whyte

In the midst of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
- Albert Camus

She dances in a ring of fire and throws off the challenge with a shrug.
- Jim Morrison