Change
When Change Comes
When change comes and forces me to unfurl, to grow wings, to take space, to step out, to see what I was blind to, to listen to my heart and follow my purpose - I am free.
When change comes and pushes me off my feet, slaps me across the face, wakes me up and shakes me to breathe - I am free.
When change comes and I am scared of all that might happen hypothetically and when all those hurdles in my head keep on coming closer without stopping, when they eventually push me further to the edge, and force me to step off - I am free.
When change comes I don’t want to be anywhere close to being found, I want to hide in the dark spaces of ignorance, in the tight spaces of past pain, in the pockets of staying small, I want to be invisible, and I really want to pretend to be weak.
But what if Change came laughing, skipping and singing? What if she had long white hair with flowers in it, instead of a grumpy old man with a grey long beard?
What if her voice was tender and strawberry sweet instead of a raspy low rumble?
What if she had love notes, presents, fresh cut flowers, feathers and precious stones as gifts?
What if she was nice, and nurturing like a children’s book kinda mother?
What if she caressed my face with her kind eyes, and held my hand with her wisdom, lit the dark windy road ahead with symbolic shooting stars and signaling fire flies, and opened every door with posted notes, “I am.” affirmations and a whisper, “Just Show Up”.
No secret recipes, no magic tricks, no karmic penance to repay, no punishments.
Would I still be afraid of change as much as I am? Would I run away from it? Would I want to stay small, be left alone and not be ever found?
Isn’t it true that change is an opportunity, a chance at a new experience, a gift not everyone gets to enjoy.
So I welcome it, trust it’s alchemy and let it hold my hand and lead the way.