I have stepped through a doorway

I feel healed finally, or close enough to it to call it home. My heart doesn’t ache each time I think his name, and my solitude has become my contemplation once again. Similar concepts, but vastly different emotions.

I feel a need to be silent lately. It’s not sadness, it’s a sort of waiting. I am accepting my quiet half. She comes out less than my rambunctious side, and even less than my joyful side. She has a duality I have to learn to understand. She cries and smiles in equal measure. She aches for some things while celebrating others.

I have stepped outside myself. I have been considering others and how they unconsciously show bits of their inner thoughts. My quiet half notices them. I like her, she has patience. She looks at the details of artwork, patterns, people. She refuses to be rushed, but rewards me with insight for my acceptance of this.

There is love blooming inside me. I read a passage of a tarot reading, and ended up saving it for a long time because it touched me soo deeply. It said “You are not a flower, you are a fruit tree” I looked for the quote, but found it gone. Basically, it said that flowers bloom, and are picked, and their beauty lasts but once. It called me a fruit tree, because fruit trees not only bloom, but bear fruit for others. They go through cycles, but return again to the offering of itself, over and over again. It rests and regrows, but always returns to share what it has grown within itself.

It called me a fruit tree, and I cried, because I really want it to be true. Which is how I know, what my lifes purpose should be. This blog is where I share bits of myself. There are better poets, better writers, maybe even better success stories, but this is mine, and I like it fine.

I am a fruit tree.

Now to find out what kind.

I am at peace within myself again.