Freedom in a Breakup

I ran in the rain yesterday.
I leaned back to catch a raindrop on my tongue. I remember being a girl that adored the rainstorms. I opened my windows to let the smell of earth and renewal fill my home. As the sound of delicate taps rose to a full waterfall, I felt the electricity of excitement charge me like it once had so many years ago. A little girl buzzing with the flutter of anticipation for adventure. She was ready to go play.

I had to grow weary of my task to protect her from every fall, unable to round every corner before her to warn her of what she is to face.

She has never not known what she is doing, where she is or who she is.
She is too curious to stay heartbroken, too bright-eyed to hold fear, too joyful to be disheartened, too creative to follow another’s compass, too free to dance to other than her own song.

She lets go with a smile and squealing giggles as she watches the release. Happy to be home for a time and elated to be freely returned to herself.
She wanders and wonders and all things fit inside her soul, belonging to herself. A butterfly from flower to flower.

And sometimes she wanders through the dark, and wilderness, and cold just to experience. To let her light dim, to intimately know the wild she can see in her, to color with deeper tones, to crisp her edges with frost and marble her emotions with fear’s beauty.

Many times, she has found herself there with no clear path, her spirit more brittle than tender, and her light dimmed to a single glowing ember, nearly forgetting that the wilderness has its ways. Deep within her is the inner knowing to lean into the dark, to open her face to the wind and let her embers be breathed back to the flame.

May you know the truth inside you from the start, and may you water it with who you are in each moment, and may it set you free.

You are not at war with anything, not even what causes you to believe otherwise. All roads leads to home.

Freedom is my nature. Wonder is my name. My spirit is my compass.

I am my home.