As I walk my path I'm constantly reminded of all the beauty and magic there is and always has been. Somewhere, perhaps in another life, I made a promise to myself to always see the beauty and magic.
Occasionally, while on my path, a new path emerges. I know it's not my path and yet it beckons me to take it. Sometimes I stand there for hours, debating. I know it's meant to distract me.
On heavy days where dense fog attempts to hide the beauty and magic of my path, or my heart pulses with sadness, I'll take a step onto the other path.
It's a path that makes me question love, acceptance, and compassion. It's a path that wants me to focus on all that is wrong, messed up, and not worth the fight.
I look around - an empty void of neither light nor dark.
I smell it - foul and dank.
I taste it - bitter and acidic
I hear it - tinny sounds and sharp notes.
I touch it - abrasive textures and biting pinpricks.
Despite a certain sense of curiosity, I listen as my inner council stirs and rushes from my belly - to my heart - to my ears. I hear my ancestors drumming against my feet and my star nation above flickering as if in warning. The pull to move forward leaves my body and the curiosity fades. I turn my head, take a step back, and continue on my path.
I'm not one to fall for illusions. And my path isn't all roses, birdsongs, or willow trees that wrap me up in their nurturing branches and offer me sanctuary. But it's the path of love, real and true, and forever reminds me that we are here to live interconnected.
I am the navigator of love and interconnectedness. If you see me in the distance, wave, and I will wave back.
~Nancy Jackson 2022