The colors ran together, mixing… running in rivulets down her neck, chest, and arms. The masks had melted, were now sliding, pooling at her feet. She felt exposed. The light was so bright, it burned.
She felt as though everyone could see every mistake she had ever made. Raw and vulnerable, she at times questioned her intuition, her connection to divine, the instructions she was ‘feeling’.
then she surrendered.
and surrendered again.
Her purpose kept her anchored to this existence, that and the love of her children, grandchildren and her soul pod siblings.
It was sometimes very scary. This was a journey of faith, no written guarantees… believing in the unseen.
Not paying heed to the fears that reared their heads…
Nose to the grindstone and back to the wall, she set focus on what her soul knew to be true and not what her eyes mistakenly saw.
This required courage, she didn’t know she had.
She had visited many tribes but had yet to find one that resonated. Being alone was preferable than hooking up with the wrong pod.
She stopped … raised to her tiptoes by the tether between her soul and the universal flow.