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Once again, I didn't follow the prompt exactly. (When do I ever?) Hopefully this gives you permission to be with the prompt's heart rather than being held by some sort of self imposed legality of the prompt.
My ears are often the first to pick up messages.
Something in my hearing, my “not quite audible hearing” of the sixth sense, perhaps, causes my chin to lift up my eyes to follow without question.
I hear, “Look,” and I do.
Sometimes I hear “Speak,” and when I forget to be afraid, I speak, my own voice at times surprising me.
The other day, I heard to “for goodness sakes, go follow the imagery. It won’t last,” and off I went, ignoring the tyranny of the should and “but your to-do list!” etc etc etc rained over the giddy my heart knew was to come.
This used to be a daily thing, when I listened consistently and my heart was dialed in.
My hands drop from the keyboard, feeling scolded.
I have made being scolded a bad thing.
Is it, though, really?
Scolding. No, not a bad thing just a thing.
So when I went “off course” from my to-do list I experienced a brand of bliss that sang Julie-ness. I wandered toward the call of flow, even in absence. I stepped into and beyond my fear first when I couldn’t locate my keys, second when I smelled methamphetamine, third when I had to climb down the slope into the river, the slope I wasn’t sure could hold me.
I didn’t know if it was firm or just appeared firm.
I commanded it, “Hold me” and it did.
Suddenly, here typing, I think whether or not it was truly solid or firm it would have held me.
That is a joyful realization.
(These things happen most when we move beyond the scolding.)
Applause tells me five minutes are gone, even if I haven’t come to a conclusion, I am complete.
For this moment, anyway.