I landed here on earth.

I mean, I suppose my soul chose this on purpose—just like this. This earth, these people, this body, this path.

I’ve been guided, and directed, and shifted, and shaped, but somehow I feel like I’m nowhere close to fully remembering the depths of who I am. My inner world and outer world often seem universes apart.

The breeze through the trees, the sounds of a trickling stream, one human hugging another, sunsets on a warm summer night—sometimes this life is so beautiful, I am sure my heart is going to explode.

The injustice in the world, those who are neglected—never held or loved, those who can’t afford to meet their basic needs, those who die too young, those who are told they’re less than because they’re different—sometimes this life is so dark, I am sure my heart is going to explode.

My heart seems like the biggest part of me—the mind just a (sometimes unwilling) passenger.

This world—and my very strong ego—tell me to think logically, to do more, to root in reality.

My heart, however, reminds me of my wholeness and assures me that my desires and dreams aren’t for nothing.

I believe in love, even in darkness—for you and for me, and even for them.

I am certain miracles are happening all around us, and can happen for us too, when we just allow.

I believe that connection is the cure for most things that plague our bodies and minds.

But believing isn’t enough on this earthly plane—or that’s what they say.

Work harder. Succeed. Achieve. Have a plan. Have a plan B. Collect things. Identify with things. Know your net worth. Stay in the matrix—it’s safest here; we’ve got your back.

I am told these things. And I listen. And I do.

The thought of letting them down, of letting myself down, is just too much.

Sometimes trying to maintain happiness for them and for me is so conflicting I am sure my heart is going to explode.

I collect the things, and the titles, and the promotions. The outward markers of a life well-lived.

But with each step up, I somehow feel myself shrinking down.

I feel the longing for wholeness becoming more undeniable, taking up shop in my hips, my fingers, my back, my mind, and my dreams.

I push when I’d rather rest. I argue when I’d rather just let it go. I push others when I’d rather redirect them into joy.

I want to be successful but realize my definition of success isn’t even my own.

Their goal line isn’t mine.

Sometimes, that’s so unsettling, I think my heart may explode. 

While I’m not sure about it all just yet, there are some things I have remembered as my truth:

My true path is not an endless trudge upstream, but a steady flow down.

I am meant to break open, to live in technicolor, to love and dream and feel freedom.

I am safe to fly my flag of authenticity so that those souls I’ve traveled lifetimes and cosmos with may find me, see me, slow my breath with their presence alone, walk me home.

I will walk with you. I will remind you of the light that is within you.

None of us will make it out of here alive. While we aren’t sure where we’re going next, it won’t be here, just like this, ever again.

So while we’re here, can we show ourselves truly without fear of judgement or rejection?

Can we embrace each other and find love in not doing it all alone?

Can we see the light in ourselves so that we may shine light on others to help them turn theirs on as well?

Can we love ourselves and each other enough that our hearts break open—not to crush us, but to remind us of the infinite potential of our being-ness, of the ultimate truth that is love?