I found a pocket of pure rage in my being this past weekend,
and was so grateful to find it and name it.
I'd been skating above it with mild irritants, general feelings of malaise, and even some artificial delight.
But when I was able to finally find this place of rage and name it as such, I felt a holy fire available to me
that I did not want to go to waste.
Every emotion has an energy we can use.
Every feeling has a possibility in it.
When we don't look,
Don't name them...
That energy goes to waste (or worse, eats us alive).
I want to see our grief,
I want to see what we can create from this potent moment where everything feels a bit too much.
Hand on heart. and hands in dirt. and hands wiping tears. and hands cast skyward in prayer...
I am here.
Thank you for meeting me in this moment.
Big love (and Magic),