I’m rolling through the rough stuff, carrying habits in my hair. Which one will I reach for? The food? The tantrum? The runaway?
Maybe this time, the Light.
I don’t want to to look, have trouble letting go. And patiently the Light just waits. It knows me, sees me, pulls me close and whispers: “You’re ok.” I need that. I need to be told I’m ok. Because I don’t always feel it.
But this time, the Light.
And I can remember my safety. I don’t have to look for it in my husband today, or my home, or my parents. I can feel it as my birthright…that as an extension of Love I am forever cared for, forever cherished.
And I will question it. I will doubt, maybe panic. I may let the thought of unworthiness cloak me in black and pull me under.
But for now, this time…the Light.
Diving into it, becoming it, sharing it. I choose this for now.
For now, I choose the Light.