Choosing to celebrate life

I’m finding celebrating life is a consistent choosing of it. It’s not an arrival, not based on perfection, it is a choice for me. Emotions come up and I feel them. Then I come back to choosing what I want to experience. I choose to let go of any illusioned anchors of knowing what will happen in the future and trust the adventure of the unknown. For me this brings me back to savoring my now. In the now for me is celebration.
What does celebrating life look like for you?

Showing up

Looking bad is something I face when I write, when I get deep in my soul and share. The process is uncomfortable, at times emotional and yet I am always left present to my freedom. To my sovereignty. I feel connected to my self and something greater each time. Every time I show up vulnerable I have to surrender to self acceptance and the tenderness of my own self love. I’m worth it. Showing up, to me, is the journey.
Do you give yourself permission to show up?

Who is your hero?

Who is your hero? Mine is my mommy. I know what unconditional love looks like because of her. She is the most tender heart and such purity and innocence. She loves to sing. Any time I would apologize she would be warm and sweetly say, ‘There is nothing to forgive.’ My mom and the love she is and has freely been to all she meets, inspires me to be the love I am.

For me the fear of not belonging has fueled much discontent. And much of me viewing myself as separate from other. However, if I stand in self responsibility I can see I do belong. I am not separate. I am all I see around me. Yes I am unique, each being is unique. And unique does not equate to separate. 
Self acknowledgement does not separate, it expands and unites. For me self acknowledgement and self responsibility dissipate old fears with tender knowing I am connected. It is me I am exploring, the ancient me in many forms. I belong not because of an action, I belong simply by being.

The play is over.

In looking I’ve realized I have spent much of my life subconsciously looking at history like a play wondering where do I fit, what part is mine to take on? The thing is, the play is over. It’s over. I don’t have to follow a role. I can do whatever I want. It’s a worthwhile play to learn from, not a play for me to keep leapfrogging throughout my life in the name of preservation. Not to perpetuate it blindly based on the fear of perpetuating it blindly. 
Every part of history is mine. I belong to every single part of it as it is ultimately about humanity, this planet and its inhabitants. I am not separate from any of it. I am both innocent and guilty. Not from shame from awareness, self love and self acceptance. It is all mine. I belong. With that lesson in mind I am free. The play is over. Who I choose to be now is solely my responsibility.

What is kindness to you?

I had for so long confused kindness with ‘nice’ which to me is a self numbing to please. To me kindness is not ‘nice’ it does not bend to comfort nor complacency. To me kindness is a powerful stand of love, an open heart calling out to the greatness in self/other. A tender whisper or a strike of lightening with thunder growling ‘Let go of hiding yourself, I see your glory’.
What is kindness to you?