When light settles softly on my face, the visual signs of years are erased. The spirit of who I have become; apparent, the celebration of life; inherent.
I was playing with this idea, these words as I fell asleep last night. I didn't know if the idea would hang around until morning but it obviously did. Sometimes I am critical of my skin. This skin that has held me together for so many years. And if I am critical of my skin, I am critical of my Self. I have little age spots, scars, crows feet at my eyes, tiny crevices at my lips; and I have moments that I don't want to accept any of it. Last night, I took my glasses off before I brushed my teeth and my reflection without my vision corrected looked a bit softer, a bit more youthful. And as I fell to sleep, I played with this idea of how I see myself with love versus how I see myself with a critical eye.
As it is with the external, so it is with the internal. Yet, that experience seems a bit upside down. Where once I struggled to be still with my soul- always had to write a song or journal or something to open the cage and release somehow - I am more able to be still; just be; accept. (Although I will say for the record that I recognize that my blogging is a form of release.). With each blessed year I am of this earth as this configuration of flesh and spirit, my internal criticism of my thoughts diminishes. I am more curious, more open, more loving to me.
When light settles softly on my face, the visual signs of years are erased. The spirit of who I have become; apparent, the celebration of life; inherent.
Kerstin
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