I cried out to my soul, “bring me the love you showed me was mine!”

My soul gently replied, “the time for physical presence is not yet here.”

I reply, “if the love is not ready, then bring me my divine aligned work!”

My soul, ignoring my demands, whispers back, “it is not yet aligned.”

I furrow my brow, and gather more force in my words thinking, with enough force, I could bend reality toward me: “If the love is not ready, and the work not aligned, then bring me my soul community!”

My soul replies, “they are walking their own paths and will come when the timing is right.”

I sit down on the earth, grab a stick and start drawing in the dirt. I mumble in words barely audible, “soul, I am tired of feeling this all right here but not being able to touch any of it. It’s like smelling food cook while the belly rumbles. I worry that this will only ever be a beautiful feeling, but never something that lands in 3D.”

My soul sits beside me and places her arm around my shoulder and asks me a very simple question, “When dinner is cooking, do you ever ask or plead to the oven to cook faster? Do you ever think that the food you put into the over won’t be there when the timer goes off and you open the oven door?”

I know she is right. I would not stand at my oven door and yell at my pizza to cook faster. I don’t fear that the food will slip into another dimension and disappear when I place it on the oven rack.

I look at my soul and say, “if the love, aligned work and community are not ready, then at the very least give me peace.”

My soul smiles, her hand opens, and golden ribbons laced with small white glyphs float toward me and settle around my body like a robe.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask that.” She lifts my chin gently with her finger and looks me in the eyes with a love that transcends eons. “In the space this peace creates, I’ll help you feel the love that does exist even when you can’t hold it in your physical arms. I’ll nudge you when the creative inspiration comes and help you hold it long enough to say, “I can take a step.” I’ll help you see the moments of connection when they do arrive so you can receive them with gratitude as points of beauty.”

I feel my body, it feels like I have been running my engine in the red for months, maybe even years now. My body feels beyond tired….fried. My tenacity is a long-embedded habit of trying every door, angle and strategy to find the entrance to a place I can’t force my way into. I realize that my tenacity may just be fear dressed up as “trying”. I stop; I let myself breathe. I give myself permission to not do anything, to not force outcomes, and to trust that stopping in this moment does not mean everything collapses. My thoughts even stop racing, which is some form of miracle seeing as I usually have seventeen squirrels living in my head, all chasing a different nut. Then I feel something new, a settling in the quiet, not empty, but motionless. A void, but in it holds the very first sign of peace.