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Writer's pictureAmy Howton

on trust

i woke this morning, needing to write my way back to my self. i listened. it began with this bit:

trust in self

you’ve slipped away

just as i drank in your warmth

and your calm moved through my being

the only thing to do was to witness your movement

and wait

knowing you will return,

quenching my thirst.

and then–sure enough!!– an opening to this out-pouring, leading me inward:

“of course, just as things are falling into place with the vision, i begin to stumble. fear’s horrid and familiar grip taking hold, it’s fingers around the neck of life. at first, i stall. knees shaking. seeds of uncertainty set in and the fertile ground of openness and curiosity allow them to settle. there is some accommodation…maybe this is not the smart thing? maybe we’re not ready financially? maybe we are setting ourselves up with a risk that traps us? the creative impulse slows as this part of self takes center stage…and then i remember. i remember how it feels to be alive. i remember my children’s wide eyes and the hopeful questions about the land and Wild Roots and our place in all of it. i remember Michael’s soul awakening as we first set foot on that place. i remember my promise, the voices and messages and bread crumbs that i’ve faithfully followed, leading me here. the truth revealed again and again that both strengthens my faith and shakes it in its power. that truth–the roots beneath the fertile soil that has grown for thousands of years, millenia–reaching to the core of the earth and manifesting life into the farthest reaches of the heavens. These roots–this Truth–will not accommodate. they signal and i receive it. now, it is my responsibility to…respond. my response-ability. my choice.

the question is not whether i have trust or faith. but what do i choose to trust? in what do i choose to have faith? will i choose the Truth, liberating and loving? Or the lie of safety and comfort?”

all of this, a lesson on trust.

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