“You’re dragging your feet, just sliding by. But sometime—you’ve got to pick up and run.”
This was haunting advice 5 years ago.
It’s stayed with me, the way sentiments—though seeming in the moment, misplaced— which are handpicked for you, often do.
I can best describe the last years as coming to know, to feel, that I can run; fly; soar.
Without the worthiness, compassion and love for ourselves to back such a vision up, we’re locking our own doors.
Today, I know that I am free; aware that my reality is mine to carve, to create, to insist on.
I have come to understand that every moment I am choosing life with my answers to its constantly unfolding question.
I’ve seen the choices to be made, witnessed the space in which to choose—felt the empowering responsibility that lends itself to freedom.
But there is more—there is a world beyond knowing the cage has always been open.
There is still the sky.
Freedom isn’t enough—I’ve got to use it.
Awareness of choice unlocks the door, but still it must be entered. The view is great, but comfortable—now, the next risk and reward: choosing to fly.
I must go beyond choosing, and decide. Really then, the task is to… decide to choose; to exercise freedom.
Decide means “to cut off”—to cut off ay other option. To commit—to aim in a direction and fire, no ifs, ands or buts. To choose and hold the responsibility of opening fully to my authentic potential.
I know the cage is open, but still I have sat, in awe of the view without walls.
Freedom is not enough, I must apply it, rather than simply remain satisfied with having felt the expanse. Not fulfilled by the small lifts, the catches of wind that have lifted me before.