Blessings to the intuitive folks out there—exhausted from every link they click, feeling every sound bite like a paper cut; & the folks just trying to keep their hearts open, with constant chaos in the air. Clear the hard drive of your heart. Disconnect. Remember your true name.
Blessings to the sensitive out there, who can’t stop feeling the brutality in the air, settled in your bones like winter’s chill. Blessings to the over-stimulated, about to collapse under the weight of your own wanting. Hear the call to fall/come apart, into Spirit’s sweet rest.
Blessings to the ones who still feel, despite your best efforts to numb yourself, for whom the pain runs deeper than the alcohol or pornography or food or approval can go. May Love flood every hole in your soul, by surprise. May delight wash over you, uninvited.
Blessings to the triggered, & the targets of online abuse, who bravely trudge along & share your story & your song, even after all they’ve said has hollowed you out. May you not always have to be the warrior or the badass; but find space to be still, & know-your God, & your self.
Blessings to the guilty, for whom every step is hard, under your own weight. You don’t have to carry it, anymore. May you fall to the ground, only to find the ground of all our being is everlasting Love. May you stumble headlong, into forgiveness.
Blessings to the ones who get no reprieve from the voices out there, or the voices in here. To the ones who feel crazy, haunted, pulled apart by the legion. May all the other voices but the voice of Love be silenced. May Spirit’s hush fall into you softly, all the way down.
Blessings to the ones who do not like their body, or their hair, or the sound of their own voice, & the ones who feel the mirror always taunts them. May you feel the gaze of holy eyes that feast on every glimpse of you, delighting in all you are—but never wanting, never taking.
