Writing My Story📝

My story…proof that life can be scary and bizarre, yet wonderful. Heartbreaking yet amazing. 

My story…is far from finished, and it won’t be till I’m in the ground ( in my case, my ashes scattered to the wind). New passions. New adventures. New people. New purpose. Possibilities arise with each new day.

My story…the next new chapter of my life is being  written. 

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My Life = Moments Of Becoming and Achieving My Dreams and Aspirations 

Found this tucked away in my journal from 2015….it deserves to see the light again. 

THINKING OUT LOUD

There is a place where my soul feels at rest. Where my heart beats in a gentle rhythm and my feet are steady.

There is a time when I feel alive from my head to my toes. When I know I’m living my purpose. When I am my most authentic self.

There is a place where my hips sway to a pulse known only to me. Where my mind wanders in and out with the waves. Where my eyes shine with the sun.

There is a time when I am grounded and simple. When I am full. When I am easy. When everything just works.

There is a place without struggle. Without fear. Without worry. Without barriers. Where I can feel. A place where I can see.

There is a time when there is only love, and light, and happiness. Where there is song, and dance, and celebration, of living.

There is a place that sparks a change. That grows the will of ten thousand men and the strength of a million. There is a place that inspires a new existence.

There is a time that is right. Opportunities are abundant. Thanks are offered. Praise given freely. When I just know. When I just, do.

There is a place. There is a time.

This is that place. That time is now.

(Author Unknown)

 

9 thoughts on “Writing My Story📝

  1. Such a thought provoking post Linda as always. I journal also but at times it is not as regularly as I would like & I can tell.
    Part of my new chapter is replenishing, restoring, resurrecting and decluttering physically & mentally (how dramatic does that sound?) to make space. I suppose recovering from a lingering cold virus has made me put the brakes on & already I can see small changes.
    I agree the poem needed to see the light again. Likewise I stick ‘allsorts’ in my journal ❤️

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