Last year I started a blog, it like myself, went through many changes. So many so that I would say we are now both unrecognizable. Going into 2016 I knew I wanted to do some revamping. Turns out taking a blog that was designed for two people and trying to make it a reflection of one was challenging. In saying this, I made the decision to start over.
I would like to call this a redirection, a redefining of sorts. 2015 was a huge year for me, and much of it I recorded in my previous blog posts here. Whether it was a story, a though process or an emotion displayed in words, those posts were and are important pieces of me. They reflect things and times and experiences I will not get back.
I would be honoured if you would continue to follow me at my new blog as I continue to explore expressing myself in this medium.
To dream is to risk.
It is to be vulnerable.
To be open and exposed.
To dream means being alive.
It is allowing yourself to want something knowing it may never happen.
It is knowing, in the depths of your being that you are not without purpose.
Knowing from the depths of your soul that you are a design and that your desires are not for nothing.
So go ahead and fan the flames.
Burn out of control.
For dreams are the expression of your heart and the flames an expression of the one who it was created for.
To dream is to love and be loved.
I was scared of the ugly in my life for a long time.
I was different now. That’s all that mattered.
I shoved the darkness down as far as it would go and refused to look back.
It crept in. Not as tears or anger or hurt.
But in a numbness that was so slowly overtaking I barely noticed.
You took my hand and whispered “I love you”
I barely heard you.
You touched my cheek and told me I was beautiful.
I couldn’t see it.
You wrapped me in your arms and said “you are worth it.”
I didn’t understand.
You got on one knee, looked me in the eyes and declared “I choose you.”
I believed it.
My numbness started to crumble.
This time when you whispered “I love you.” I heard it.
When you told me I was beautiful I received it.
When you held me and told me I was worth it I let you.
And when you chose me I chose you back.
In among the wreckage you find me.
Here my heart is split open for you.
Here you heal.
Here you rebuild.
Here I am found not empty, but ready to be filled.
Here I am not a coincidence I am a design.
Here I am given purpose.
Here is not the end, it is the beginning.
I let out a cry as I release the thing in front of me.
The dream I’ve been holding on to so tightly is starting to leave cuts in the palms of my hands.
I honesty believed I could be in control this time.
But control is fickle.
It is fear wrapped in judgment, loneliness, superficiality, missing out…
It is the act of holding on so tight nothing else gets in.
Surrender presents itself as walking off a cliff.
It is the pain of ripping of a band-aid and the relief of the healing air.
It is walking blindly into the unknown with faith that you will be caught even if you fall.
It is knowing you won’t fall.
It is hope wrapped in love and joy and peace.
It is choosing a plan that doesn’t look like yours.
It is the ultimate expression of faith.
It is choice.
It is freedom.
It is a gift.
It’s meaning is almost fluid.
It can be a person, a place, a thing, a time, an experience.
It changes, moves, grows.
It is peaceful, painful, full of hope, laughter, joy and tears.
It is where you choose to leave pieces of your heart.
I have called a lot of things home over the years.
All of them fading, until only nostalgia was left.
A dusty museum filled with frozen moments, protected but barely breathing.
Flashes of a life I left behind remind me of the experiences that held me together.
Picture frames capturing the best and worst of times.
As I walk through those memories now, the pieces I pick up no longer fit.
I have placed my heart in the hands of one who completes it.
Who has made me whole.
A place where the word “home” is no longer fluid, it is fulfilled.
This is the place I dream.
Here the buildings mimic the untouched places of my heart.
The unfound rooms that pretend to bring new life but instead hide a darkness I refuse to face.
Here there is an inhale, and an exhale as I stir up the dust of the past.
Here there is nothing and everything.
Here is where I plant the seeds of new beginnings.
Where I knock down the walls that keep me hidden and let the sunlight in.
Where I choose to be seen.
Here I encounter the only thing that matters, the One that speaks my truth, my freedom and my wholeness.
The One whose words breathe into the depths of my being and call forth the hidden treasure within.
The One who tells me I am enough, I am beautiful and I am wanted.
Who gave me the dreams that blossom in the hidden places.
Here my soul feels the freedom to speak the unspeakable desires aloud.
Where I am told they are not for nothing.
Here my heart takes flight.
This is the place I dream.