We may need to travel a long distance before we find the new skin that fits us, and before we can learn to be comfortable in it – but first, we have to commit ourselves to the Journey. We have to awaken from our torpor, commit to life instead of the desiccated half-life of the Wasteland. We must shake off the false skins we’ve cloaked ourselves in; we must let the old die to make room for the new. We must be willing to detach from whom we have been, what we have become, before we can discover who we are really meant to be and what our work is in the world.'
Saturday, August 5, 2017
The Call
'Some
of us may hear the Call sooner, others later. But whenever it happens,
whenever it transpires that we find ourselves on an edge, out of our
element, out of our skin, there is something in us still which hears, no
matter how deeply buried. Like the first August swallow fidgeting on
the telephone wires, we know there is something we should be doing. We
know there is a Journey we should be undertaking.
We cannot rest; we cannot sleep. Something in us knows that there is
somewhere we should be going. And in the end, whether or not we think we
can, we go because we must. We go, on a wing and a prayer, because to
stay is to die.
We may need to travel a long distance before we find the new skin that fits us, and before we can learn to be comfortable in it – but first, we have to commit ourselves to the Journey. We have to awaken from our torpor, commit to life instead of the desiccated half-life of the Wasteland. We must shake off the false skins we’ve cloaked ourselves in; we must let the old die to make room for the new. We must be willing to detach from whom we have been, what we have become, before we can discover who we are really meant to be and what our work is in the world.'
We may need to travel a long distance before we find the new skin that fits us, and before we can learn to be comfortable in it – but first, we have to commit ourselves to the Journey. We have to awaken from our torpor, commit to life instead of the desiccated half-life of the Wasteland. We must shake off the false skins we’ve cloaked ourselves in; we must let the old die to make room for the new. We must be willing to detach from whom we have been, what we have become, before we can discover who we are really meant to be and what our work is in the world.'
Labels:
begin again,
if women rose rooted,
journey,
the call
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