To Thine Own Self Be True

It seems strange to think that it has been six months since I last wrote. I’ve always been a bad weather writer. It is easier to tap into my emotions, to find the flow, when I’m broken and bleeding love.

But he has changed me.

He has made me stronger, more powerful, more aware. It’s not that I don’t feel the devastating flood of emotions that occasionally tumble through the war wrecked landscape of my heart. If anything, I feel it more often and more powerfully. Because he has taught me something I never thought possible.

It is OK to be me.

Even as I type that, tears surge to the surface waiting to fall. I spent so long changing for others, running from myself, fearing my own reflection, wishing to disembody myself and float away into a different reality. It had never occurred to me that the person I should try to be was me. Just me. I don’t need the bells and whistles. I don’t need the masks and elaborate disguises. That he loves me is all the proof I need that I am fine just as I am.

When the river turned salty after Narcissus metamorphosed into a flower, the gods thought it was because the water missed his beauty. But that was not the reason for the river’s sorrow. It was because it could no longer see its own beauty reflected in his eyes.

I used to lose myself in other people’s stories. Now I just see our love mirrored in them.

He loves me with a force that creates its own gravity and it draws me back to myself. My existence broke open his heart and his creation poured daylight onto my soul. It is in his grace that I learnt to find my own.

I write this coming off of the back of one of the most anxiety filled days that I have ever experienced. I woke up in a state of panic about something as mundane as a part for my car. It escalated into visions of shattered engines and expensive repairs and culminated in what was supposed to be a relaxing walk turning into a sobbing stumble. But in the midst of it all, a tiny voice from within my heart was whispering at me to read The Alchemist again.

I tried to ignore it. I tried all my well-trodden paths of ploughing on through and trying to be strong and getting on with things. The only thing I achieved was to break myself to the point where all I could do was lie on my bed and breathe.

Breathe (Don’t Panic)

Breathe (Don’t Panic)

Breathe (Don’t Panic)

This went on for some time. Enough time for me to finally admit defeat. For my mind to finally accept what a state I was in, that it wasn’t capable of managing the situation and the best thing to do was pass control over to my heart and let me read the damn book.

Anyone who believes in pursuing destiny, the few of us that dare to dream, really dream of big huge adventures of a lifetime where you find truth and beauty and freedom and treasure and maybe even miracles and magic, for those people The Alchemist is the key that unlocks a door. Whether you choose to walk through it or not is always your choice. Some people don’t want adventure. Some people want safety and comfort and convenience. I have always wanted to walk through the door.

I have always dreamed about treasure and true love.

And now that I have found one I had started to forget about the other. The message I need to hear,┬áthe reason I needed to read the book, was so that I didn’t forget my own search for treasure.

His love is like the oasis and although I would happily spend a thousand and one lifetimes in happiness and laughter there with him, we are more than that. Neither of us need to stand in each other’s shadow. We are equals and our dreams are of equal importance. He has his goals and so do I. The days of trading our wishes, negotiating our desires and compromising our lives is over.

Sometimes we will walk this path together and sometimes to progress we must part. But we always do so safe in the knowledge that before long, the other will return full of stories and adventures and experiences. That is how we grow. That is how we love.

That is how we find our treasure.

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