Peace and War Stand Looking At Each Other

There’s a part of me that secretly treasures every experience I’ve ever had, even the very difficult ones. This part feels like a renegade, an outlaw, because surely I’m supposed to judge. Surely, I’m supposed to call this good, this bad. That is what I have been taught.

But this part just notices. This part just revels in what is and all the ripples that occur when something occurs.

For many years this part was hidden to me, and when I found this part, it was like finding a limb that had gone numb from too much pressure.

Now, when I’m quiet, this part notices me and says, “There you are.” I notice her and say, “There you are.” She remembers that we dropped into embodiment to experience everything, not just the pleasantries. Now I remember her.

This is an awakening. One of the many, one of the long list that happen gradually as we breathe, as we breathe and be.

Do I treasure every time I thought life would break me down? Well, I treasure each moment when I found it hadn’t, each moment when I discovered that my essence is essentially unbreakable. And I treasure every facet of my being, all the parts that suffer, and this renegade who understands: truly each moment of life experience is clay in my willing hands.

Some people find peace in forgiveness, in compassion. For me, peace and war stand looking at each other, acceptance and outrage gaze lovingly across a very crowded room. In the tension between them, I am.

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