The Nature of Freedom.

Beats trickling down from upstairs, calm calm calm. At the board meeting last night I spoke with eloquence and grace. Yes, I am paying myself a compliment. Perhaps this is the first time such a thing has ever been done? Oh, Emily. So much to learn.

A fist full of light. Everything being so different, I keep commenting on it, but it's true; each experience is brand new, my brain is forging new pathways, long dusty synapses are jumping to life! It is apparent to me now that this core I have uncovered will not be cast off again. This is the beautiful thing about total honesty. [Most importantly with yourself, in every aspect. Though I don't pretend to be an expert yet. That I chose to include this "yet" gives me hope...!] You aren't beholden to this shiny little icon of yourself. Your ego will try to tell you to be embarrassed about a thing, or situation, or to hide information away as though our selves can be cleaned up, shined, polished for some momentary dinner party. As though no one actually lives there. There is no point! No point at all. Your precious image of yourself is a dungeon, a prison. To know the freedom of acting, not reacting. I will get there I will get there I will get there.

For so long, I have been standing on this insurmountable precipice, looking down, afraid and uncertain of the depths below. And in August, or September, [time is tricky] with perhaps a slight push from my best friends, or at least a nod of assurance, I jumped. And nothing will ever be the same again.