This long walk continues.

It appears that my path is leading me to better know the present moment, and in doing so understand what it cannot contain …. everything else.

My  belief that the stories of my life mattered became one of the foundations of my pathology. As long as I held on to them I was never going to live a vital life.

The other foundation of my illness was the incessant parade of reminders that my body was not well. My unresolved traumas manifested as storms from within, once again keeping distant the possibility of a vital life.

Both my beliefs and my body have been barriers to living my truth.

My best friend says that truth is not a story. This makes complete sense to me. Consciousness is not a story either, it exists now. Living in truth is always and only possible “now”. 

It can be no other way.



4 responses to “Truth

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