“Be Here Now,” I tell myself. 

It’s a mantra I try to live by these days.

There was a time, not too long ago, when I’d cut off pieces of myself with a dull knife in order to avoid being here.  I ran away from my reality.  I ran away from the God that resides in the armor of my bones and blood. 

Somehow, by grace I suppose, I stopped running.  I stopped hacking at my soul with every weapon I had at my disposal.  You know the weapons.  We all have our own arsenal.  I’m blessed that my knives were dull.  I’ve learned that not everyone’s are.

When I stopped running, I inhaled the smell of my decay and came face to face with the runner.  At first the rotting odor was hard to bear.  But with time, I’ve learned to recognize the smell as that of emotions held onto as if they were life itself.  And with that knowledge, I developed a practice of fully breathing – breathing into my soul all the lies I told myself.  “It’s your fault,” I’d tell myself.  “You’ve fucked it all up beyond repair.”

I was wrong.

I learned to exhale that fecund mindset.  I learned to push it out of every pore of my being.  And in so doing, I made room for a new life.  The more I let go, the more I could breathe in.  The more self-hatred I exhaled, the more self-love could pour in.  Anger is being replaced by peace. 

“Be Here Now,” I tell myself.  There are worse places to be. 

My spirit chose this incarnation.  There are no accidents.  There are only opportunities for growth, and all the aches and pains that come with growth.   And the fear that comes with free falling. 

I’d rather feel this fear than feel the results of gripping onto my knives too tightly.