Full. Real. Unfinished.

Unravel Disengage Separate the threads. Come apart Disentangle Dissolve the complexity of it all. The unravelling will leave you naked. The nakeding will find you whole. The wholeness will bring you clarity. In the clarity, only love.

     Today it happened.  The fertilized egg found its way through the dark and scoped out a new home, where it would stay for the next nine months.          It did it so well.  It knew exactly what to do, and that it did.  It implanted, it multiplied.  It gave life.  But while new life took form, simultaneously something inside me died.  That day I lost something I loved so very much.     I never wanted to be so young when I settled down.  It was in no way my idea of fun.  I didn't want a baby.  Not to mention four.  Not yet.  Not then.  I wanted growth for myself.  I wanted school.  I wanted travel.  I wanted experience far, far away.  I wanted to be single.  That's what I wanted.     But alas, I kept hearing men say that life isn't about what I wanted.  They told me life was about what He wanted.  They told me He  wanted f...

 A friend shared a line from Rupi Kaur: "What is stronger Than the human heart Which shatters over and over And still lives" And I ponder all the versions of the shattering. Death.  Betrayal.  Loss.  Change.  Loneliness.  Abuse.  Growth. In amazement, I stare at the last word on my list.  Growth.  Growth means something must shatter.  A paradigm.  A belief.  A cell. And the shattering feels like hell.  But then, on second thought, it's hell that's do-able.  It's pain that I  think will become everlasting.  But it doesn't.  In the end, I am always ok.  In the writhing and the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, I am o.k. So, either hell isn't as bad as my mind makes it out to be, or nothing can really feel like hell.  Because hell is final.  Without end. And growth-- isn't. It's just growth.  Cyclical waves of joy, hope, sorrow and mundane. It's growth. We shatter and live Shat...