The Angels remind us to spend less time avoiding pain (physical and emotional) and rather, spend more time being present to its message, for pain can be a powerful indicator of what we need to do next to take the best care of ourselves.
The Angels remind us that it’s our responsibility to not only remember the past, but to work to understand it too, so that we do not keep repeatedly hurting each other, generation after generation. It starts with us. It starts today.
This Is for the Quiet Women: https://www.elephantjournal.com/2017/09/this-is-for-the-quiet-women/
The Angels remind us that this world needs us, in all our glory, all our shame, all our joys, and all our pain. There is no need to hide behind perfection; we are asked only to come as we are, and give what we can.
For more inspiration and info for Awakening Angels, visit www.aspiritledlife.org.
What are you purging,
What need not be part of you anymore
That it so forcefully releases
Like fireworks in the night sky
Within the heart of your own being?
What pain can you let go,
What ancient past emerging
Asks not to be still buried
But rather to be free,
Out of the cave of your belly
And into the light to be atoned
Its particles scattering to the Universe
Becoming the fodder for your growth
Instead of caged rebellion,
Becoming the light
Which feeds your soul
When did they first clip your wings?
When did you go to fly,
Like you’d done so many times before
And instead of soaring,
Fell, lifeless, to the ground?
When did you learn that flying high
Is too threatening for some,
So you shouldn’t – you didn’t – fly at all?
And when did that moment come,
When the pain of not flying,
The phantom pain of forgotten wings,
Became too much to bear?
When did you no longer have a choice but continue to suffer
Or uncover that which had seemingly been lost,
To delicately unfold those withered wings,
Longing for devotion,
And see if they could still hold
The weight of your dreams?
What if the only way to be free
Is to give up all we’ve ever known,
To turn our backs on that which
Has painfully brought us to this place
All the lies we brought inside
And raised like bitter children
Never letting them see the light of day
For fear their faces would be too much to bear
All the stories told late at night
Embedded in our minds
Like hand prints in fresh concrete
First told when only the wind howled in our empty souls
Hands cold from clutching at a heart
Already too far down the path to be constrained
What if we had to admit
That it was all a fallacy,
That grief can’t keep us grounded
And fear won’t make us whole,
That it’s only in receiving
That we’re able to give,
And it’s only in faith
That our hearts open to love?