Sometimes.

Sometimes the wisdom of something, && the hardness of something, && the beauty of something nestle up together, edges catching && tangling, impossible to separate.

Sometimes the pull toward a thing && the pull away feel equally strong && we are both so distant && so close at the same time.

Sometimes everything is screaming for peace && protection && instead we choose to stand inside the eye of the storm because at the deepest level; that is what we need.

Sometimes we want everything that is not forthcoming that we pull so deep inside ourselves && we begin to wonder how we will start to turn the right away out again.

Sometimes we fill ourselves so full with something && not having that the want itself begins to feel empty.

Sometimes emptiness exists so we can have space to make room for what has yet to come.

Sometimes there’s so much work to be done, to reveal && uncover && dismantle. So much trust && faith are required to sink into what is real. So much living && loving && stubborn, cautious hope calling us forward.

Sometimes we will have to push pause on the relentless && build a case for rest && lightness based on faith, intuition && a willingness to pause our disbelief long enough to fall into what is already good.

Sometimes things happen very slowly so we can barely sense the imperceptible shifts, then bam, everything changes all at once. Kind of like the moment of falling in love or a moment like falling out of it, for that matter, with infinite slowness && then undeniable immediacy, every time.

Sometimes we are living in which nothing seems to happen, yet we wake up one day && no longer recognize our own life.

Sometimes stories are just like that I think. Some lives && some loves as well.

The borders here are soft && infinitely liminal. The endings come softly, gently. Sometimes they aren’t endings. Just a continuation; Just a pause.

Just a life… waiting for the perfect time to begin again.