Pursuing passion, for me, feels like going out into the world without my skin on.  Exposed.  Vulnerable.  Raw.

Weirdly, it’s the way I prefer to be.  Putting on my skin, my clothes, and my roles, I feel stifled.  Suffocated.  Coverings that rub the parts of me that are real and don’t want to be trapped by confinement.

But it’s not easy.  I feel naked.  Alone.  Almost shameful.  Like I’m an abomination to those who are perfectly coiffed and covered.  Who have their life in order.  Their ducks in a row.

Too often I feel I have to don masks, my old identities that no longer fit me, and be the interpretation of who I think I’m supposed to be.  Your perfection, like my own, doesn’t interest me.  If you’ve got it all figured out, well, great, but then we have noting to talk about.  Nothing to digest.  Nothing to nourish either of our souls.

Instead I want to ask – How is your heart?  How are serving your dreams?  How can I help care for your wounds?

It is through pursuing my own passion with the vengeance of a fire breathing dragon that I have found my tiny magical tribe of people who want to have these conversations with me.  I treasure them.  We dance in our dreams.  Our heart beats synchronize to create a momentary duet of sharing our truths.

Could it be, after fifty-two years, while my birth family is falling apart with lies and addictions, that I am finding my Soul family?

The world wants me polished, coifed, and confined but my realness is where my only beauty lives.  After years of trying to force my ducks in a row, my real self to fit in, and giving my lonely soul the impossible task of catching a waterfall, here I set them all free, to scatter on wild winds and dance in the rain.