Time

It's short, I know that. Life is. Time is precious. All that is true. But it's important to give things, yourself, 'stuff' of all sorts enough of it.
Time.
It's about pausing. Not pushing.
Resting. Being in place. Waiting. Allowing. Forgiving.
Live a forgiving life.
Remember that below all the sadness, imagined betrayals, outrages, anger, despair, is love.
Love.
That's it. That's all. The root of it.
It doesn't matter whether it's 'deserved'. Because it always is. Everyone, everything is deserving of love. Your love. Mine.
This is not to say that you must be loving whether it is deserved or not. Or that you must be loving towards the world in general whether you feel it or not. What I am saying is that do not stop yourself from it.
Forgive yourself, quickly, and just let it happen.
Time is of the essence. Is essence. You must allow it to steep, yourself to steep, once in a while.
Feel it.
You are lucky if you do.
I feel it. And feel tortured, but also blessed to be landing here.

Faith

There is something in me that says it's time. Time to drop back into the thin air of things. Of life, of nothingness, of the unknown. I have clung for a long time to a flower that has opened and dropped it's seeds into the ground already. It was beautiful, perennial, but I'm not sure when or where the sprouts will rise. Though they will. I am sure of that. In this lifetime or the next; within my sight or hidden from me.
My body and mind cannot wait for this certainty. My soul can and will. Simply because it knows and sees what the mind cannot, and will stay put while also falling with me.
So I stand here poised, leaning backwards into this nothing. Trusting that when I fall and feel the winds rush past me there is a fresh landing somewhere; new gifts, new life, surprises and wonders that I cannot yet see or imagine. Perhaps I am falling already and simply do not know it, my eyes still focussed on what is above. Maybe it will be a while before I let go my grip on what is no longer here.  Either way is fine, neither better or more right.
This is the secret to life, to 'what's next'. To have faith in what appears as nothingness.

Getting Stuck

It is time to honour the great human endeavour of getting stuck. We all do it, and flagellate ourselves for it, no doubt. Beat up on ourselves for repeating some hamster-wheel thinking pattern. For being unable to simply let things go. Move on.

I think this habit of returning to the past might have something to do with being fearful of the unknown. What lies ahead in all it's mist and mystery. We can set a blind bearing into the fog, but we don't have a chart, or even if we do it does not accurately show time or distance. And then we are out there floating. If we're lucky we are following a true bearing. Some direction told to us by the still quiet voice of the soul.

It demands a lot of trust. Navigating in fog is profoundly disorienting, and if you don't trust the compass you will end up paddling in circles, or out to sea; wherever the current decides to take you.

It can be discouraging, exposing, so sometimes we simply return to shore, back to where we started to wait it out. Waiting for the fog to clear maybe. There is safety here, on this known shoreline, regardless of how lonely or lost we might have become here. We can explore it's familiar topography, dig our toes into the sand of it's beaches or sit with our backs to the sea. It is reassuring because it is known, though we may have already walked every inch of it, waded in every stream and and touched every tree. Rooted and re-rooted in the dirt of the interior. Turned it all inside out again and again. But no matter how long we stay here, or how many times we return, it is unlikely to show us the answers to the questions we are asking. If those answers exist, they are somewhere out to sea, beyond or perhaps hidden within the fog bank. Or perhaps only seen from some vantage point far off land.

In the meantime there is no shame in getting stuck, returning to the shore to check again. Looking perhaps under some unturned rock or shell.  That is the way of things until we are truly ready to leave the beach.