From My Journal

four o’clock on a sunday afternoon. it is the end of august and it feels as such. the air is warm, the sun strong. but. there is a hint of autumn in the wind, a promise that, yes, the season will turn again, the way that the season does. within me there is a deep-rooted calm and certainty. i walk through the motions of the day, in tune, aware. i feel vibrations from every— one, thing. joy, relief, fear— all objects, living & inanimate, whisper secrets to my own soul who listens intently, who offers her own hand. my purpose is so clear now. although i am slight, my shoulders are strong and capable of bearing such heavy loads. so that when i come in contact with a fallen one, i pick it up, sling it across my shoulders, and continue on my path until it, too, has healed. in turn i become stronger by days, hours even. and this is my life, this is my purpose and i am grateful for it, whole.

i have spent some twenty-five years journeying to come to this place, this crossing and i am here now. everything is perfectly clear and i am without fear. to serve, to carry, to heal — this is my destiny. what i have known for so long resounds in my ears in my mind that there is only love there is nothing else. i am meant for this and this alone, to love, to love, to love, to love, to love, to love, to love and to give. always and everything. there is only love, there is nothing else and fear is an illusion.