The Creation of Me
In those morning moments
As I journal my way into a new day
While the sun begins to softly glisten over the city and the fields,
I always see the truth reflected back.
I start off with some stories
And I stay curious about them, my love.
They tell me hidden secrets about how my mind likes to pretend who it is.
But they're not the truth, beauty.
They are simply an illusion;
A reminder of what is underneath all of our feelings.
And, so, as I practice the morning pause,
Hearing life go on around me
In this very moment,
I realise that all of it is made up.
What I talked of yesterday, what I will do tomorrow,
How to heal -
Even how I can step into my own vulnerability and courage.
It's all created by me.
And me doesn't even exist.
Other than in my own perception.
There's no judgement, there's no failure, there's no guilt, there's no lack, and there's no restriction on your freedom, my beautiful love.
It only exists in our own minds.
All there really is, is simply what is.
Right here, right now,
The unfolding of a new day.
Life simply living us.
Our connection to what is moving us.
And when we remember this wisdom,
In that settled feeling,
We know the truth.