Sometimes, when it is scariest, is when we can't see a door. Many times, I have felt this way — sometimes caged in circumstance, sometimes in my own gridlock of self.
I imagine that I am not alone in this, especially in a time with much upheaval and change.
Language is important. The words we explore are important. The way that we tell each other how we feel is important.
Sometimes when you are looking for a way out, you need to look for a way in. I know someone once told me this, but I don't remember who it was and for that, I apologize.
Clarissa Pinkola Estés (one of my favorite writers) writes, "The doors to the world of the wild self are few but precious. If you have a deep scar, that is a door. If you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door."
The Prompt
So I invite you to sit down with me and open your notebook. That's the first part. Give yourself the permission and the time and the space to create. No one else is going to give this to you. I invite you to not take yourself too seriously. And I invite you to begin to practice listening to the language that is going on inside of you all of the time.
Then open the door.
What does the door to your wild self look like? Is it a deep scar? Is it a story? Is it a love? Or a yearning?
If it's an actual door, what does it look like? What happens when you open it?
The thing about intuitively writing and channeling is that you can't be wrong. Explore.
The door may be heavy, but I promise it is not locked. Step through the threshold. I'll see you there.
Psyche Entering Cupid's Garden by John William Waterhouse
