I think my soul got a little tired these past few weeks. Initially, I thought maybe I was just giving up. It frustrated me, because there didn’t seem to be any specific reason why. I mean, no other reason than the obvious ones, which have been there all along. Nothing was different, except for me. It’s been a long time since I’ve cried every single day.

I likened it to an ant. I’ve heard an ant can carry like a thousand times it’s own body weight. Amazing strength, right? But I wonder, how long can they carry it for? I imagine if they carry the weight of the world for too long, eventually their legs buckle and it just crushes them. Or maybe they just lie down under it all, surrendering. After awhile, that weight just becomes painful. Or even excruciating.

I guess it makes sense.  They say for a seed to achieve it’s greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, it’s insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.

I’ve been known to have my best experiences of personal growth after periods of intense pain. I know this, so I allow myself to sit in the swamp during these times, as I have faith that I will find my way out. I always do.

I haven’t cried in two days. I can feel the change. The light is coming back. I’m looking forward to seeing which version of me emerges. Before you know it, I’ll be hanging by the sea with my tin cup chalice…content.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Dec. 22/18

This post was written in response to Linda G Hill’s Stream of Social Consciousness Saturday