balancing act

life feels like a constant tightrope walk. i recognize the importance of this time in my life, the sheer act of walking a thin line. so much risk, so much effort, so much discomfort, so much within reach, so much slipping away, so much that has always been within me, so much hope,feeling so alive on this edge. it is utterly overwhelming no matter how welcomed or necessary. sometimes i think autonomy is really an illusion, I did not set up the line, I did not make the rope. People watch from either end with an outstretched hand. I can do the best for myself, take care of myself first, fulfill my own needs, breathe steadily, stay balanced but the truth is i have not done it alone. i don't know if i would be writing these words without the loving people in my life: family, friends, strangers who opened themselves up to me. I've made more new friends in the last 6 months than the last 4 years, I am grateful beyond measure. It is the greatest gift, the opening of my eyes and heart. However, it is not easy to grieve and mourn the loss of a life you've lived for so long. It feels like rubbing up against jagged rocks in order to remove shedding skin. I asked for change, I got more than I ever imagined. I am powerful in my ability to manifest, I accept I made this all happen. Everything happens for a reason, to see this it takes a backward reflection not a future prophecy. I see now that she was there long ago, perhaps just a dream that lived inside me, it's not fair to her person that she disappointed me. I saw my self, my dream, my ideals and to be honest I still do. That was one of the many fatal flaws. I recognize now that this feeling of something dying within me, this immense grief has to do with what has been in me all along. The transition from one life into another, allowing the dream to die and opening up a space to actually live it. I know why I fell, why I chose to, I loved for who I was. Who I am still lives and still loves. Now I have little to give others in terms of material and objects, any sense of societal security. Clearly now I only have myself to give. It took losing everything to know what that means. I could intellectualize it but now I know what it feels like, sounds like, looks like. Through this I've learned how to articulate my needs, to loosen the chains, I am being opened to the flow of exchange. Clarity comes with a healing price; mourning. I wish I had that gift to give then and the spaciousness to receive endlessly, I knew in that one area she was right. Retrospectively, it could not have been any other way, there are so many reasons why. So now, I write to express myself, to one day be heard and to be understood.... by whom I do not know. It's healing to see myself again, so long overdue. The wind of each day brings abundant smiles to my face, just as it trembles the tightrope of my heart. I step gently and intentionally...looking forward, not down. open arms, open hearts await.