If I were to zoom all the way out to look at the arc of this particular lifetime, I can begin to see the threads that are all being woven into one incredibly intricate and beautiful cloth. But before weaving these new threads, I had to examine the ones making up the carpet I had been riding on.

There’s the thread of the illusion of control. Boy, have I held tightly to this one. For me, one way it manifested was as obsessive order in my home. Bed always made, Counters clean and gleaming and nothing out of place. Anywhere. While fibers of this thread still exist, I’m holding them much more loosely.

There’s the thread of caring what you think of me. This one looked like both attempting to always appear perfectly dressed with perfect hair and make up, and trying to impress you with what I had done, who I knew and where I’d been.

There’s the thread of not enough. Not enough time. Not enough energy. Not enough money, attention or love.

This entire cloth was woven from threads of fear. A fear of losing your love. Your approval. Your acceptance.

The microcosm of my own story can certainly be seen in the macrocosm of society: 

- Trying to control how others behave

- Our obsessive focus on artificially created beauty.

- The endless pursuit of more “likes”. 

- And our workaholic, unconscious acquisition of stuff in an attempt to fill our sense of    not enough.

In this iteration of my personal journey, as I’ve been consciously allowing many of these old threads to disintegrate, new threads, woven of gold are beginning to replace them.

There is the thread of acceptance that lets you see me, at times, without make up on or less-than-perfectly accessorized.

There is the thread of self-care that looks like eating far less sugar, eating more green vegetables and spending far more time dancing or hiking or biking.

There is the thread of trust. This one is now doubly reinforced because I know more and more deeply, that I will not fall through the cracks. That I am held. That I am supported. Always.

The most vibrant of these golden threads that are making up this new magic carpet that I’m allowing myself to be carried by is the thread of love. It is what is truly at the core of all these other threads. It is actually the warp and the weft underlying it all.

These threads were always available, but I had no idea how to find them. They had been buried in plain sight like so many of the jewels of our experience here on earth.

So as I spin and gather these newly discovered and uncovered threads and begin to weave them more securely throughout my being and that which carries me, I can begin to joyfully soar on this heroine’s journey into my next chapter.