Gerry Ellen shares her mindful moment—a reflection on her life path, the love she’s shared and the love she’s ready to receive.

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Conundrums are an interesting thing. One minute my mind can have it all figured out, the next moment it decides to up and go where the wind blows. It feels to be a dilemma, given the emotions wrapped up in each decision and spontaneous choice, but the true blue deep touch within is tapped when the only voice I hear is pounding in my chest and not what’s between my ears.

Logic and I aren’t exactly the best of friends. Neither is being overly ordinary.

I have taken some pretty interesting steps of late, and once the daydreams get hold of my wandering eyes, I think only of love and the vast array of senses that needed to be upheld and honored. Sometimes I can’t even describe what the feeling is, yet there is an opening and a long-held power within just waiting to emerge. 

I have covered the gamut with my emotions. Vulnerability, happiness, despair, joy, peace, you name it. They have all shown up during the course of my older self, and still shout rather loudly when I choose to ignore what they are saying. I have learned and am still learning, and am patient, and am humbled, and am amazed, and am figuring it out, and am ready to do it all so differently this time. 

There are days where I can’t put a finger on exactly what it is I’m feeling. There are days where a flood of words and thoughts and actions take me to a place that I may not be very comfortable with. And then there are days where everything starts to make sense.

My soul is way-more sensitive this go round in life than it’s ever been in previous lives. I take things more personally, I share more of me and I admire those who can weave exposed words and phrases without the blink of an eye. It’s so beautifully poetic to be part of a tribal experience of artists and people who care so much for everything they do. 

I was chatting with a friend recently, on one of my many stops and conversations on this road journey of mine. She mentioned how we are all returning to the womb, in one form or fashion. We were born perfect, and somehow life had its way with us and made us more imperfect. I find this to be a gorgeous display of human behavior, and I no doubt believe that the heavenly cosmos play a grand role in how we are returning to our womb roots, and embracing flaws within our bodies and minds. Our humanness is alive and kicking, and shouting awareness molecules all up and down our spines. If we haven’t given in to this energy by now, then we can take baby steps whenever we are ready. I was more than ready.

My own personal journey back to love is fraught with letting go, taking leaps, trusting the outcome, having faith and living out what I say. I need this love to catapult me into feeling okay with where I am and where I’m going.

My dreams of late are all over the place, and I wake up wondering “is this a good sign?” I still have no idea, but I’m definitely into reaching as far as I can into tucked away soulful corners to understand more and feel more and share more. When I send little messages back and forth to loved ones or close friends or whomever, I find that my sensitive self has difficulty in cutting off the conversation first. It’s as if I need to keep the dialogue going to ensure that the recipient of my words gets what I’m saying and hopefully has a smile on their face.

But that is control, and I know better.

My only intention comes straight through my heart and soul, and I have no choice but to be okay with the outcome from the other end. Being vulnerable is silly sometimes, although necessary to maintain a sense of self. I avoided and repressed it practically all of my life, and this journey is teaching me that my safety and security is not wrapped up in my modesty; it is in showering my own worth with so much love that I am then able to spill it out to others. Amazing that it took me half my life to come to this conclusion.

Love and coming full circle are the two reasons why we are here.

If I blossom into more than I thought possible, my intuitive belly doesn’t ache so much. Instead, I am doused with goose bumps and chills up the backside of my neck. If I allow my best self to be dulled, I can wither away and be in a flow of something that doesn’t resonate. As I make my choice in this world and lifetime, I have opted for sharing and receiving love. Every feeling under the sun is purposeful, and precisely what I need to continue on into my golden years.

[images: via wilB and ashley rose, on flickr]