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The bliss of getting lost

I’am dwelling in a deep peace, the peace beyond getting lost.

I’ve spent so many years trying to heal my wounds. It’s been helpful, but trying to do this in order to make the wounds disappear was impassable. The only way through is to embrace them. At some level I’ve been whole all the time. At another level I’m wounded and so, I can be a wounded healer. Knowing the pain, being fully human.

Sometimes my old wounds get triggered and I get lost in the fog. That’s painful but human, so very human. I’ve decided to provide a life for myself where it’s ok to get lost; a life where I never need to feel shame for any reaction, emotion or need. I always have my own back and whatever happens, I never abandon myself.

So, admitting the wounds and allowing myself to vulnerably expose my dysfunctional reactions without acting on them, sets me free. I may loose track of my way, of what I know is true, but just for a while. I need to allow myself to get lost to be able to find an unknown glade. Admit instead of control or deny. Admit to be able to let go. Under and beyond the fog, the view is clear. For me, after the fog a brightness follows. The sight is much clearer than before, the love flows much stronger, the life flows within and I’m connected. Everything is fine. There is no aching wound, there is just love.

I embrace the dips, because they make my sight new, so soft and tender, so bright and clear. I embrace it all, because I’m already embraced by the greater love.

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