ludicrous hopes & magical alignments

(this ought to be read while sitting down & with a goodish amount of time to let it seep & soak in.)

 

"Eat. Not just at mealtimes. Between and around and under them. Feed yourself with more than just what will suffice. Feed yourself with what will nourish. 

Ask for help. Not in the way of apology or guilt or wantonness. Not in the way that contorts you into the shell of your own power. Not in the way that drills your guts into the ground. Not in the way that divorces you from boldness. Ask for help in the way that expands you, that blushes you awake to your own life. Ask because asking is another kind of love and another kind of faith and another kind of courage.

Invite imperfection. Know that the missteps and mistakes will become amusing anecdotes eventually and perhaps even teach you something further down the line or sooner yet, and that the places of wrongness and upset ultimately come the underpinnings of transformation, and that even disappointment offers a cure for inertia. Let go of the outlandish expectation that "whole" means "unbroken" or that you are only good if you get there twice as fast as anyone thought you would. Know intimately the bald tire that bursts, without warning, on an uneventful road, the error in judgement that leads to a locked door, the desert mirage that doesn't shimmer into fortune. The raw material of your defeat is pure gold, the bones that build you back, the song that sings you home, again and again.

Believe in luck, in slim margins, in ludicrous hope, in the magical alignment of planets. Trust the pixie dust of stars, the winking moon, the magic hour that tilts sunlight into halo. Hear the soft prayer your body makes, waking to a snowfall, and how the rain leans you so close to yourself, you can feel your own heartbeat in your hands. The shiniest moments are hardly the only evidence that you were here, living your marvelous life. There are eddies of quiet, deep knowing that will gift you a thousand times more grace.

Remember the path is full of detours, places and reasons to get lost, narrow passageways that tempt with risk and long, wide fields of drowsy musing. No matter. The geographies that bridge you from here to there are flecked with breadcrumbs, small reminders of where you came from, river stones beneath the listless current, a muscle capable of so much flexion, your reach startles you sometimes, the way you carry leopard equally with lamb, your conviction latticed with mystery, and all at once, inside of you the same blood threading your veins, the same breath holding you fast to this earthly heaven, this heavenly earth."

~ Maya Stein