Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, yet is ever transmuting.

I’ve been falling for quite some time.  I almost don’t remember what it’s like to stand solidly on the ground, one with Mother Earth, centered.  Fire and water dominated my existence for many years…and I needed their transformative and consuming nature...for creation to occur there must be some destruction – my phoenix rising, my cobra shedding, my butterfly emerging - transmutation.  Now I hear the wind speak slowly, softly in my ear, and a short distance away, floating to the shore, I already smell the green and dirt.

I used to believe that controlling my environment, circumstances, planning to perfection, enabled stability.  The truth is that was an untruth.  Flowing, accepting the natural chaos that is this life, enables a peace and tranquility beyond any false sense of control I once maintained.  I only control myself, my actions and reactions, my perceptions, my dreams, my reality. 

For potential to exist you have to pay attention to the open doors, cracked window, holes and crevices, web of possibility, and take some action, any action in a direction.  You can always take another path at the next crossroads, but movement forward, being present, is necessary.  Failure to move leaves you stagnant, and at least for me lifeless.  I’m about to step onto the shore, dry in the breeze while lying on the grass chasing clouds, breathing the life-sustaining air.

Excitement, fear, the realization of my strength, patience, and capacity for metamorphosis overwhelm me.  A leap that began a long time ago towards the reality of my dreams and hopes rests a few short days away.  A home fit for princesses, a turret and maybe a dragon or two for protection, a life to live awaits me.