Mirrors

In this life time, we hold mirrors up for each other.

Each and every one of us.
In each and every encounter.

An exchange of energy, yes, but also a valuable chance to really see 👀 ourselves. Through the eyes of another.

How you feel about me. . . The thoughts that arise, the judgements made, the light you witness. . . All merely reflections of you.

Sometimes you make me uncomfortable.
Arousing feelings of fear.
Sometimes I hate you.
Curse your name.
Wish to smash you to smithereens.

As you, your intentions aside, show me the darkness within my own soul. Darkness I am not always ready, nor willing to yet relinquish.

But sometimes you see me, Love at my core. We see each other.

The windows to our souls directly facing and finally we witness that which we yearn to see reflected back to us.

‘Namaste’ we say. The light in me recognises the light in you.

Other times I can hear your thoughts and I try a little too hard to compensate for your misinterpretation of me.

As though I could force you to speak my language in my native tongue.

But then I remember, one can only meet you at the place in which they’ve met themselves. Your opinion of me really is none of my concern.

It is simply a reflection of you. For you.

The mirror you hold to highlight my insecurities? That’s the image I claim as my own. And it shows me where to pour my love.

‘She must fill up her own cup first!’ They speak of me whilst I sleep.
‘She needs to fill her own cup.’

But I didn’t know how, until now. Now I see the mirrors and I’m no longer hiding from what they have to show me.

Now I’ll take the reflections and I’ll look at myself. And minus the man – made concept of shame and my ego’s desire to judge, I’ll see my own shadows. The sore bits. Tender to touch.

I’ll see where they came from. Shine my truth torch on that subject. Embrace it. It’s part of my life’s tapestry afterall.

And then I’ll release it. Let it go. Nurse the wounds with the love I know I encompass.

Love for you.
Love for myself.
Love for the journey.

Because when our cups are full our mirrors will gleam.

And we can hold them up higher, knowing that truth love and light will bounce and beam and finally be seen.

#RememberToFillUpYourOwnCupFirst
#ItsAllReflections
#ChooseWhatYouMirror
#SelfLove

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Just Stand Still

Fuerteventura!

Ancient Isle of good fortune. And fierce winds.

Fitting that this is where I find myself. Christmas Day 2017. Small piece of volcanic rock preventing the pages of this book from fluttering hysterically.

Beating sun, whipping wind competing for my body temperature.

 

Fitting, but of course, no accident.

She sent for me.

 

And long before I could see the sequence of stepping stones; perfectly synchronized, accurately timed, never-by-chance events and incidents that led me here.

The ocean beckoned, the wind whispered. And I heard her loud and clear.

It’s only now, aware of the abrasive sand ridding me of the skin I am due to shed, that I understand why.

 

Breathing, cleansing, absorbing, expressing.

The salty air is laced with a taste I am blessed to be familiar with.

 

I’ve been here before. Not this beach nor even this island. But here.

Where demons dance, shadows reveal themselves and Little Steph, the me still bearing the weight of unresolved, undiscovered pain, begins to feel the shift.

 

Each chapter in your life will require an ascended version of you. So here we are.

 

Tentatively treading an imaginary tightrope. Though the feels feel real.

Tremors! Tension! Tears!!

 

But I am without trepidation. Because I know this place.

 

I’m familiar with the force that bought me here.

 

She winks at me from the ocean and dances in my hair.

And if there’s one thing she’s taught me, it’s that resistance is futile.

 

Surrender I must.

 

I thank her for the looking glasses. The prisms in which the light splits and true colours are exposed in all their glory.

 

Even though it often hurts, to see the truth. To have it sear straight into ones soul, eyes prised wide. Nowhere to hide.

I’m lucky enough to know what’s on the other side of the inferno.

 

She’s taught me that much.

 

So I thank her for the looking glasses in all their forms.

The people, the places. Anonymous faces. I see myself in them all.

 

And even when the reflections hurt, when my pain is uncovered and exposed, for the salt to wash my wounds I am grateful!

 

That’s the thing about darkness. Once exposed it disappears.

 

And I, every chakra in my being, am designed to be a vessel of light.

 

So I’ll stand strong on the uneven terrain and I’ll let her shake me and take me and make me the way that she will.

And I will just stand still.

 

Breathing, cleansing, absorbing, expressing.

 

The roll of the tide relentless as the beat of my heart.

A push, pull on both.

 

None of natures navigational signs have gone unnoticed by me. Indeed I’ve followed them faithfully since she first stirred my soul. As though they were the only thing I know to be true. Often they are.

 

They speak my language.

 

Which is an enormous comfort, in a world often foreign to me.

 

And so it is that I, cradled in soft sands blown in from Northern Africa and to the sounds of dancing palm leaves am able to recognise this place.

 

To know where I am.

And more; why I’m here.

 

Into the furnace we go!

Adios Amigo!

No room for ego.

 

It is time once again to shed the layers that no longer serve us.

To offer them to the wind!

The fears, like shackles on the mind.

The pain, like armour on the heart.

 

A half moon smiling in agreement, she knows.

The sacrifice is upon us.

 

It’s time to let. go.

 

So I’ll let her shake me and take me and make me the way that she will.

And I will just stand still.

 

 

 

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