littlecolourfulteacher

littlecolourfulteacher

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February 4, 2017 , , , , , ,

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Today, I re-read a book I read in my early 20s. It was supposed to be a lightweight, warm fuzzy read, like pulling on an old jumper and smelling the neckline as I pulled it over my head. And yet, I found myself inside-out with emotion, seeing and feeling things with the sketchings and experiences of a decade further of life.

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Every WORD seemed to shiver with colour; every thought and idea seemed to hold me by the shoulders and ask more of me. It was extraordinary to me that re-reading a book could uncover so many unseen puzzle pieces of sheer feeling and wisdom that I had no capacity to understand when I first read it, and hit me with full force navigating them now.

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Like that there MUST be push and pull for love to blossom. And that you absolutely MUST be tender and vulnerable to live life fully, or you miss a moment, a day, a year. And that conventional, “perfect” beauty is nothing on raw beauty, and resonance of a lively spirit from within. That love does not know its own strength, stupidity, or stretch.

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And that truly, really truly, the difference between what we want and where we are is “a width of an eyelash”, to quote the marvellous Judy Dench talking to the equally marvellous Maggie Smith. I loved that moment when I first saw it, but I didn’t know how to understand it, now I do. With all my being.

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What if I were to ask the questions MORE, rather than waiting to be asked? However courageously I have lived my life yesterday, today brings new opportunities for learning and courage, being and loving. How is it that we think we know ourselves so well, and then in an instant, everything is changed, and we feel like we are seeing for the first time?

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The wonder. The fear. The scariness and the joy of it all. I did not realise my own beauty, even though I have lived always striving to walk my own sacred ground. Comfortably, happily, and authentically. Yet STILL, I can shift and grow. I feel like I could dance and resonate five feet either way more than I did before.

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Isn’t it amazing how keenly we cling to what gives us history and meaning, how much we need to understand, and want to know ourselves? And isn’t it amazing that we are born with a desire to create, to imagine, to adventure and discover, and to love. And the difference between a life lived to the full, with ragged pages worn from exploring everything, to pristine and safely read pages…is intent.

It’s the will to begin.

The dare to try.

The wonder to what if.

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The width of an eyelash.

My goodness, if I have been blessed with a heart + mind, a life and imagination, I am not going to waste a moment more.

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