I haven't written any new poetry in a while. Maybe it's because I have been just been trying to raise a new, a beautiful, poetic conciousness to my days instead. Maybe it's the paradigm shift I am witnessing in myself (as objectively as I possibly can) but all my pieces previously written currently connect with me about as much as my cell structure of a year ago, 6 months ago, one week ago even does. I mean, it's all born from the same imprint, the same light, the same energy, yet...it's transformed.
I remember a show I was in in high school where a monologue of mine began with "Does one accept or create their own destiny? Endings are only relative to the fear of them." I have never forgotten those words...
This is our free will, to make every moment count. At the end of this week I turn 28, and all I know is that I have had enough wasted moments for my life already. I'm done with that. This weekend has been so incredible and lovely and happy because of the choices I have made on how to ride these waves. And to embrace my days and the people I encounter with loving thoughts. I've caught myself in the past weeks about to complain, or say something snarky, and instead of letting that out of my mouth, I am reformulating that in my head. Is this really how I want to spend my time, or, can I take my yoga practice off my mat for real? Can I approach this position, and instead of saying it's too hard, or it hurts, or I can't do it, or I'm not graceful, can I just say that I am proud of myself and my effort and I am going to fill this moment with my Joy? Can I share that Joy?
How do we spend our time, so that we would never want to buy it back again?
Make it all count. It's too overwhelmingly
precious and awesome.
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