The Path of a Wanderer

Some days my lost cords force me to pause. The illusion of glue manifests to the soles of my feet spreading upwards into my memories. I see a vision of my youthful self, unchained and free of walls, free of the imprints left by the seekers of another’s pain. I see myself dancing, sensing the air trickle my skin as I am connected to the earth.  I hear myself singing from the deepest depths on my emotional being to any person at any time only needing to ask. My heart remembers. My soul remembers.  

Time changes this freedom to express and replaced my loves with fears of criticism, sideways glances and those ruled by their own fears. I freeze. Not knowing why. I hide.This is a path many have walked and some never recover. Forgetful of their cords, they replace with temporary fixes from the material world. 

To the seeing eyes, I am a wanderer. I am lost with no purpose. But the truth is all paths lead to the same destination. To you I am the missing. The gone girl. What you do not know, is I am busy in my mind. I am evolving behind the scenes.  

My mask is first to go, but I thank my masked self for years of its protection of realities I was not yet ready to face. Then I peel back each layer, thick or thin, until I find every fear. All pieces of the shadow covering my higher self. The secret is to pluck the root of its beginning. Do not yank this root. Force never has its desired outcomes. Manipulation ruins what is pure.  Instead, carry on a conversation. Foster understanding of its existence and she will willingly step into the black hole never to be seen again.   

When you no longer feel its presence, a golden light of gratitude fills every breath of your being and you feel thankful for the pain that took all you have and the nameless to cleanse. This pain is now my strength. I've learned to convert its negative energy into a tool for my soul’s evolution.  

Behind the light, I see the ashes of my former self. In sadness I ask, where are my cords? I imagined they would be as bright as before ready to fuel my passions. From the ashes, a tiny light flickers. As I brush away the ashes and soot, I see my little cords beaten, bruised and battered. A fraction of their former vibrancy. But they aren't sad. Oh no! They are grateful. For they know, they will never be lost again.   

My journey begins anew. My creations are my babies that I nurture. I feed. I grow. I express. My love is unconditional. Allowing myself to learn from those who have already accomplished this mastery is where I begin. I seek this wisdom and it fuels my motivation. I may accept it. I may apply it. I may reject it. I will keep seeking this wisdom until the end of time for these masters lead us upward and propel us forward to finding new gateways to open.   

Behind the doors are fresh ideas! New steps. New thoughts. New lyrics. New songs. It’s endless!   The source of creation is wide open and I thank the masters before me for creating the staircase for each step along the way was a beautifully painful journey to discover the mastery within. 

This is the path of the ascended master. You may call it the enlightened. The illuminated. The inventors. The originators. The creators. The inspired. The pioneers.The leaders. It’s a path we all take and the gift received is you in the truest form.