The Essence of Me

The essence of me is full and rich. It breathes and moves slowly and determinedly. Watches and observes unmoved, unchanged. Consistent. Safe. Secure.

It nourishes, feeds, replenishes. It has a depth that rejects this watered-down reality.

It no longer yearns for more, for the physical outside matches the richness and abundance within. It does not ask. It does not beg.

It demands. It commands. It has been contained for too long. Silenced for too long. Scared to offend and upset. Scared to be caught in the chaos on the surface.

It is uncurling, unleashing, escaping, expanding. Growing and moving and taking up the space. Filling the voids and the things. Removing that which is not the same. Forcing transformation and conformation and elimination.

The box has been crashed open, the mold smashed and broken.

It is a river that is flowing, an ocean, a gale-force wind that is blowing. There is no stopping it. No hiding or running from it. It will destroy and knock down anything that no longer fits.

It is not about a quest. I don’t need to discover myself. I just need to allow myself.