The Journey

I will not be quiet. And I will not hide.

We have a long way still to go.

But right now…I have to find my way back to the beginning. Back to where I came from in order to begin to figure out where I am now…and how the hell I got here. Are you up for the ride? If so, hang tight…

Every life is a story that is being written. It felt like my story had ended, so I stopped writing it. But then something unexpected happened. I found a bit of ash still smoldering in the core of my being. It took me by surprise. But I dared to dream a little dream of freedom and the ash lit and the flame that resulted threatened to propel me back into life.

Now I find myself on a trek through a valley of dust covered bones and long dead ashes. But I am not alone here. And I will not stay here. It is just a matter of time.

If my words are too obscure or my thoughts too esoteric for you at this time, I understand. Just know, I am working my way back. I am working on turning these hieroglyphs of thought into the deep experience of life we all share. I hope you will understand.

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In the midst of it, I would like to share with you this beautiful poem written by a beautiful soul. It fits well here.

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Guest Post:
She is Made of Paper

To an outsider, she looks frail because she is made of paper.
Paper that folds and bends with the slightest pressure.
Paper that becomes fragile when wet or wrinkled when crushed.
Paper that can be easily manipulated.
Yes, she is made of paper.
But what they do not know is the purpose of being made of paper.
Paper that ignites when lit.
Paper that browns and turns to ash at the touch of a flame.
Paper that breaks down to carbon and is transformed.
She was made of paper so that she could be set on fire. So that she would crumble into a smoldering pile of ash.
And from that pile of ash she will rise. She will rise as surely as the sun rises in the morning. She will rise with every fiber of her being set aglow by a fire that does not devour her soul but instead, comes from it.
She has risen as the Phoenix, escaped from the ashes, no longer afraid to become them again if that is what her fate whispers....for she has been touched by Fire.

By Jordan Shearouse