As I let go of the illusion of security, control, perfection
something shifts inside of me.
The airy anxiousness, like bees buzzing in my chest, evaporates.
Quiet settles in, heavy like a wool blanket.
But in spite of the new, solid weight of my soul,
I find my feet floating above the earth,
No longer stuck or requiring such effort to make each step.
Who knew how heavy one has to be to fly?
LOVE this, Renae. I've never thought about this conundrum before. It's true, though. Our shackles and burdens ultimately release us. Isn't that amazing?
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