I never cared about nothing
so much as I care about REAL.
Not even guitars or chocolate or being
happy. Because sometimes happy is
a lie. And lies don’t feed my soul.
REAL feeds my soul.
Real is messy and unpredictable and
sexy and vulnerable and freeing.
Real drives me on, teaches me,
plays with my longing, stirs my deepest
desires, feeds my soul.

Real feeds my soul. Real feeds
my soul.

We don’t grow in straight lines.
We grow in spirals. And seasons and
cycles. In babies being born
and grandmothers dying.
In daffodils blooming and leaves
falling. Lovers meeting and hearts
breaking. Doors closing
and gates opening.
Knots tied always untying.

Opening, circling, unfurling, becoming.
Growing ’round and back ’round
again.

Not in straight lines

Things aren’t always what they seem.

there might be a stranger
you pass on the street who says
something that resonates so deeply
it becomes a guiding star for you.

The magic you seek might be in unsuspected places.
Your heart will tell you where

All you need is (blahblahblah)
love. Except when you need
a dose of good
old fashioned let-down,
disappointment, and heartbreak.

You know…the kind that empties
you, breaks you down, cracks you open
to MORE of your bare naked
truth and beauty.
(If you let it.)

it also includes the shadows, the dark
nights, and the growing
pains that make it all so much richer,
deeper, wider, balanced, and more
expansive

If you were to follow
your heart, to really live the deepest
truth of your soul, and you never
received applause, respect or accolades

If you never got branded with success
in the world’s eyes. If great, grand, and
wonderful things never did come
together on the outside. If you had nothing
to show for it other than the quiet
sighs of your heart knowing you
stepped into your own shoes,
walked in your own footsteps,
and sang your truest
song…

if no one else but your own
soul ever understood,
would you follow
your heart anyway?

This is where
we prepare
for eternity.