Inward

All of who you are awaits

Sometimes.
The work calls you inward.
And all you have is a chisel.
Small and sharp in your hand.
To cut through what looks like fog and feels like the whole wild world looming between you and no one yet knows.
But do not let that dissuade you.
Because three feet down, which is hardly anything at all, you will find a den carved out of a rock wall with just enough space for you to curl into your breath and remember that you are not a creature to be defined by the mere ebbs and flows of existence.
Oh no.
You are more.
So very much more.

And a little ways further down.
If you are willing to veer off your path for just a second.
You can uncover a treasure buried when a fear, that was never even yours to begin with, caved in around you, trapping a moment of firelike clarity within the amber of doubt.

And even deeper still.
Is a literal wellspring of wonder.
Lost to time because once upon a something or other you were told it was a myth.
As if you are not a legend in your own right.
As if you need to prove to the wild that you were somehow worthy of figments and magic and yarns spun of your smile and tears.

And further below than even that.
Before an end that does not exist.
You will find a seat.
A seed.
A throne forged of roots.
Fed with veins of gold.
And held open.
For you.
To find.
That you are.
Dense and true.
And alive.
In all that is.
And ever was.
Forevermore.

So use your chisel.
Your hands and nails.
Dig
All of who you are awaits.

With love and fire ~
Jo Anna