Breaking the Chains


Time is a factory

where everyone slaves away

earning enough love

to break their own chains.

~Hafiz

 

The funny/sad part of this is~the love we are working so hard to earn is our own. The respect we want is self-respect. The eyes we want so badly to smile at us, are our own. We want to be proud of us, to know that when all else fails, the love and integrity we are will carry us. We will be victorious, we will break our own chains.

The other funny/sad part of this is~we put ourselves in the chains we need freed from. We are the ones who set the limits on our achievements, dreams, and willingness to take risks. We are the ones that said, “NO! Do what you should, not what you desire.  Be responsible, punch the clock, take the crap, do the duties, dim the light, don’t be ridiculous, foolish, stupid, wrong.”  We did that to us, no one else even helped until we gave them permission, WHICH WE DID!

I can be who ever I want, and do what ever I want. So can you. I can be a writer, poet, healer, teacher of meditation, mother, wife, daughter, friend. I can be and do all of these things. I can be a chaser of dreams, a healer of hearts, a lover of beauty, a sharer of joy. I can be a guide to the heart, and an example of how to know if you have one to find! You can’t stop me, nobody can, except me.

We live so small, think so small, dream so small. When we begin to transform ourselves by asking the first questions of who am I? and what do I want? we step into a power so astounding that many step back out quickly and consider themselves lucky. I’m more like the character in Pleasantville who refused to give up the color she was starting to see in her gray tone world. I’m with you sister, I like living in color and I’m not going back.

Advertisements

Buying Back the Slave: Living Free


I know I will live forever, that I have always existed. I know it, just as you must know it for yourself, at certain times when the light in my heart cracks through the debris I bury it under to protect it from harm.  Those instances where everything unimportant  (which is everything) is swept aside by the white flame heat of joyous clarity that can happen only more frequently as I  reclaim pieces of my true self. Pieces of me bartered, traded and sold out for an artificial sense of belonging.  You and I sell ourselves to the unreal, and now have to earn ourselves back from an identity that has no real value anyway. I make progress, and I am invincible. I stumble, and I lie in the dust of sorrow a little less time before leaping off the edge of wonder and flying victorious for a little while longer.

I must own myself, and I will. I must not “find” myself. That is not what I want. I must BE myself, now, and in every other moment on my path to whisper to those who walk on this earth with me “stand up! you are wonderful, powerful, and real”, whispering this to each of them, each of you, and myself.

I say this: we have in our hearts, all the gold we need to buy ourselves back. We only think ourselves poor. ❤

 

Someone put
You on a slave block
And the unreal bought
You.

Now I keep coming to your owner
Saying
“This one is mine.”

You often overhear us talking
And this can make your heart leap
With excitement.

Don’t worry,
I will not let sadness
Possess you.

I will gladly borrow all the gold
I need

To get you
Back.

-Hafiz