Cristen Rodgers's Blog, page 10

Both Simple and Not

It was so easy, and yet it wasn’t.

She decided to take back control – but only after spending years living a life she didn’t want. She had to suffer the stories and the characters she’d built. She had to uproot the sources of the projections that maintained them.

In that moment of blooming it all seemed so simple – and it was – but the road to get there was not. It took courage and strength and determination. It took grit and tear stained pillows, cold nights, and heated flare ups. But in the end, all of that struggle was the result of living a lie.

So she chose to step into the truth. Simple and yet not. Before she could step into her truth, she had to loosen her hold on all of the beliefs she once held. She had to face the lies one by one. She had to feel their pain and see their consequences. She had to step fully into the pain of abandonment. She had to face head on the hopelessness of bondage. She had to walk through the misery of being less-than, not enough, unworthy, unloved.

Then and only then did she decide to own up to who she really was. A creator. Something far greater than the culmination of the many roles she’d played. Something far beyond the belief structures and limitations and judgments she’d made.

And that’s the irony of it, isn’t it? That in the end it’s really as simple as letting go.

In the end, it was all like the pages of a story that she had become so entrenched in that she forgot she herself was both the author and the reader. She herself created every character it contained – even the villain, even the herald, even the hero. And as those pages floated away, she was left with so much more than any single character or single story could ever contain.

She was free to live beyond the frame, outside of the prescribed rules. She realized that, if she could create a story so complex, riddled with so much pain – well, just imagine what she could create with the simplicity of truth. The truth that she is love. She is freedom. She is both peace and chaos, both the storm and the rainbow. She is creation. She is creator.

That’s how she stepped into her power. You see, it’s just about letting go – both simple and not.

© 2020 Cristen Writes

She Rose Again

She stood strong and watched as the remnants of who she always believed she was shriveled in the flames; and like the illusion that it was, it crumbled to ashes and floated away. What then remained was not timid or weak, it didn’t question and project. What remained was fierce, radiant, strong, and oh-so-alive. She rose again, unashamed, daring the world to look. She rose as the goddess she is, shining from within, naked but for her luminous soul.

© 2020 Cristen Writes

Listen

Sometimes it requires far more courage to listen than it does to speak.

Sometimes taking a step back is the greatest show of strength.

Sometimes the best way to understand and heal the world around you is to understand and heal yourself.

Sometimes the progressive path is silent and invisible, paved with subtle revelations and surreptitious nudges rather than volcanic eruptions.

Sometimes those focused on learning can incidentally become our greatest teachers.

Sometimes mountains crumble beneath chisels and shovels, and sometimes they bow to a whisper.

We are each in a different leg of this journey, and we each individually must choose our own steps. Integrity, above all else, will light the way.

If you are led to speak, then let nothing intimidate you or quiet your voice. But, if you feel that now is your time to listen, that your attention is more potent than your voice, let no one tell you otherwise.

Above all else, let your heart lead the way. It can ignite more fires than a thousand matches, and holds more power than a thousand echoed words.

© 2020 Cristen Writes

It’s Okay to be Both

It’s okay if one day you step out the door like a lioness and the next day you feel like you’re still just a cub.

At times you’ll be all dreams and daring, magic, manifesting, and miracles; but there may also be others when you’re weary, wary, conflicted, constricted, or confused. And that’s okay.

It’s okay if one day you feel the pulse of the universe flowing through your veins, and the next you reach out to find that your humanity is the only thing you know for sure.

Sometimes you might see your own heart in upturned fronds shimmering in the moonlight, and see the heart of the world reflected in the stars, but there may be other times when the only reflection you see is in the mirror and made of simple and faded flesh.

It’s okay.

It’s okay to faulter. And it’s okay to be strong. You are learning what it means to be both. Both soft and strong. Both confident and humble. Both spirit and flesh.

We aren’t here to overcome our humanity but to embrace it, to love it, to make the very most of it.

It’s okay if one day you reach for the stars and then the very next you reach only for a familiar hand.  It’s okay to know both light and dark. It’s okay to see your extremes and still hold your middle ground.

What matters is that you remember. What matters is that you remember the heavens when you feel weighted to the ground, and you remember your humility when you reach the stars. That you remember your wholeness when you feel torn apart, and you remember your own glow when trying to see through the dark.

It’s okay to be both woman and girl, both sun and moon, both wise and wonder-filled. There is a universe inside of you, with infinite modes of being; and even if you’re surfing galaxies worlds apart every day, it really is okay.

© 2020 Cristen Writes

Never Alone

You are never alone.

When you’re wandering out in the cold, I’ll be the blanket of snow that keeps you warm. And when you’re lost in the dark I’ll be the voice that reminds you to look to the stars.

When the noise rises to an uncomfortable pitch, I’ll be the wind that shakes the dead leaves from your soul; and when the silence is deafening, I’ll be the honey that whets your appetite.

When the world spins too fast I’ll be the sunrise that gives you pause. When the way is unclear I’ll be the truth that sets you ablaze; and when all thats left is ash I’ll be the rain that awakens your spring.

You’re never alone.

If ever you grow weary from your travels, if your resolve faulters and your knees begin to shake, I’ll be the moonlit path, the rising wind in your hair, the songbird that guides you home.

I’ll be the whispers in the dark that wake you from sleep, the cool hand that steadies you, the herald that reminds you to govern the dream.

I’ll be there. When the days are long and when the nights are cold. When your blood runs hot and your tears run dry.

I’ll be there. When your laughter rings down the corridors and your smile echoes in the hearts of many.

When you feel the sting of regret, and the tender touch of hope. When you tap the wells of love, I’ll be there.

When you jump from the nest, I’ll be the wind that catches your wings; and I’ll be your greatest fan when the day comes that you learn how to sing.

You are never alone.

© 2020 Cristen Writes

Image by escume on Deviantart

Meet Me There

Oh how I yearn to meet you there one day, in that place beyond.

Beyond the flesh and beyond time. Beyond our roles, our pasts, our fears and names; beyond the limits, and beyond the frame.

We’re overdue for a rendezvous, in that place where no words need to be spoken yet nothing is left unsaid. In that place where dreams are born and fears subside, where there is no distance, no time, no walls between us; no bridges to cross or mountains to climb.

Sometimes, when we’re fast asleep, you meet me there and I whisper in your dreams. I whisper, “meet me here, when you’re ready, when you can. Meet me in this place beyond.”

I’ll be waiting here, with glistening eyes and trembling lips. I wait, with perfumed hair, silken robes, and jewels on my chest. I wait for you to come and see me as I am. I wait for you to come and strip me bare.

Oh how I long to hear the deep timbre of your honest voice, to gaze upon your naked truth, to melt into your sensuous touch.

I am waiting here, where the sun touches the horizon, where the seas meet the shore. I wait for you where the lines blur in morning’s soft, golden light.

Meet me there, in that place beyond.

Meet me and we will dance, two sovereign souls whirling ecstatically with the flow of life itself. Meet me in the realm beyond, where insecurities bow and the heart reins.

Meet me there, when you’re ready, when you can. Meet me in that place beyond.

© 2019 Cristen Writes

Meet Me There

Oh how I hope to meet you there one day, in that place beyond.

Beyond the flesh and beyond time. In that place where no words need to be spoken and yet nothing is left unsaid.

In that place where dreams are born and fears subside, where there is no distance, no time, no walls between us; no bridges to cross or mountains to climb.

I whisper to you at night when you’re fast asleep. I whisper, “meet me there, when you’re ready, when you can. Meet me in that place beyond.”

I am waiting with glistening eyes and trembling lips. I am waiting with perfumed hair and jewels on my chest. I wait for you to come and strip me bare.

I so long for your honest voice, your naked truth, your sensuous touch. I am waiting here, where the sun touches the horizon, where the mind meets the heart and every line blurs in the soft, golden light.

Meet me there. Allow these sovereign souls to dance ecstatically to the rhythm of life itself, in the realm where insecurities bow and the heart reins.

Meet me there, when you’re ready, when you can. Meet me in that place beyond.

© 2019 Cristen Writes

I Had to Do it Anyway

Eventually I had to look up from my books to truly understand – but I’m grateful for every last line I read, because the drops of ink spilled by those who walked before me helped guide me towards my own first step.

It wasn’t so much what those pages spoke, but the rising frustration I felt in knowing there was something more I wasn’t hearing. And it wasn’t the thoughts that sprouted from the seeds they planted, but how my thinking revealed what I couldn’t yet feel.

It was the sense of learning but not really knowing that finally pushed me to that point. It was the words unwritten that made me stop looking down and try looking in.

The books didn’t give me the answers, but I had to read them anyway.

Eventually I had to drop the act to learn the practice – but I appreciate every forced routine and structured approach, because those rehearsed outer movements revealed my secret inner struggle.

It wasn’t so much the controlled routines but the frustration of realizing there was so much I couldn’t control. It wasn’t the monitored thoughts and forced meditations, but the rising tension between where I wanted to be and where I felt I was.

I had to keep tightening my cage to the point of discomfort before I’d risk what it took to finally break free.

The rituals didn’t mend my broken pieces, but I had to practice them anyway.

Eventually I had to forget the words to learn the language – but still I appreciate every mental puzzle, each philosophical dive and scribbled line.

It wasn’t how I followed the thread, but about how it helped me reveal each knot. And it wasn’t about what I managed to define but about getting to the point where my mind could admit that it was my heart that needed to know.

I had to stop trying to make sense to finally understand.

The words couldn’t reveal my truth, but I had to use them anyway.

Eventually I had to let go of the seeking so I could embrace being found – but I honor the quest and appreciate each step I took.

It wasn’t so much the way I searched but the way the searching changed me. It wasn’t so much where it took me, but the way it showed me what I craved.

I had to brave those outer trials to find my inner peace. I had to walk through the flames to let the waters of life flow. I had to travel to far off places to rediscover my home.

The truth was there all along, but I had to chase it anyway.

Eventually I had to stop trying so I could start allowing – but still I love the reader, the practitioner, the thinker, the seeker I’ve been.

It wasn’t about the roles I took but about finding my wholeness beyond them. And it wasn’t about which stage I was in but about learning that still I glow throughout.

Eventually the journey took me full circle, but I had to take it anyway.

© 2019 Cristen

Natural Blooming

It happened in an instant – too short to be measured, too profound to be imagined.

In a single moment – too sudden, too prodigious, too spontaneous to be anything but fate – I saw it all.

In the blink of an eye I replayed every bit of it. Every time that I’d betrayed myself. Every time I’d denied an opportunity. Every time I’d put a stopper in my creative flow because I chose to turn away from the truth I felt in my gut.

It was all right there before me, all lined up in a row like spokes on a wheel that had been spinning as long as this current life has been in motion.

So many chances not taken. So many obstacles seen and yet still stumbled over. So many moments of alignment sacrificed to what? Was it fear? Was it doubt?

Maybe.

Or maybe I just wasn’t ready. Maybe I wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility. Maybe I wasn’t ready to own my role as a co-creator.

And maybe that’s okay.

It’s okay that I didn’t yet know the difference. I couldn’t yet distinguish between a gut feeling and a fear reaction. I couldn’t yet tell the difference between that inner knowing and a conditioned response.

After all, the knowing only becomes clearer as the buildup from those conditioned responses slowly chips away.

But then, when I was ready, it happened in an instant. In one instant it all became clear. And in the very next I let it all go. I let go of a lifetime of guilt and doubt. I released those feelings of inadequacy, and of frustration, for falling into the same potholes over and over again.

I forgave myself for all those times I confused fear with the knowing. I broke the cycle of repeated lessons because I chose to trust my gut and freed myself to learn new and bigger things.

And, most importantly, I once again learned the value of flowing with it, of letting my heart lead and trusting that my own inimitable path will get me there.

Once again, in the blink of an eye, my life had changed.

I guess some things can only come when you’re ready. And thats why, when you’re in the thick of it and can’t see your way out, you just have to do your best and, beyond that, trust in the process of your natural blooming.

© 2019 Cristen

I’ll Stitch You a Moon

I’ll pluck these scraps of light from between branches and leaves and slices of night. I’ll hold the honeyed glow from street lamps, catch every shooting star; and use them to stitch you a moon.

I’ll collect each raindrop and remember each tear. I’ll ebb and flow, I’ll drift with the river, until you can swim in my ocean.

I’ll sift through the words, taste each syllable, and cradle each name. I’ll burn through the extraneous and melt into verse. I’ll drink from the sky until I become your poem.

I’ll listen attentively to each chirp and buzz, every croak, caw, and splash; and I’ll rumble with every roar. When the wind blows, I’ll shake with the trees, creak with the wood planks, and ring with the chimes. I’ll sing for the sunrise and howl at the moon until I too am your song.

I’ll burn with the maples, root in the sodden earth, and float with the clouds across vast seas of blue. I’ll make love to each color until I can paint you a rainbow.

I’ll inhale the gardenia and follow the honeysuckle breeze. I’ll cherish each breath until I can give you a sky.

I’ll lie down in the dew covered grasses, dance through the shadows and soak up the light. I’ll treasure the seconds between hours, the moments between thoughts, the breaks between days.

I’ll peer into the peripheral. I’ll break beyond the frame and explore the outskirts of this dream. I’ll rise and fall until I am the treasure of which I speak. I’ll break open over and over again, until until I am the love that I seek.

© 2019 Cristen