alignment x

How do you find “flow?”

How does one orchestrate the alignment of the stars and the cosmos… where everything seems to be in its rightful place? And “Always it’s Spring. And everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.”

The Ease.

The Synchronicity.

The Choreography which feels like muscle memory although she doesn’t recollect learning it before.

She’s the kinda girl who likes to have her fingers in all of the pies. Because life is short. And everything is exciting. Too much to do. So much to explore. How could it all possibly fit it into a lifetime?

And yet, as she moves through her mid-thirties, time and energy are a rarity. Something as coveted as her mother’s pearls or the smell which reminds you of your grandfather’s medicine cabinet. And she finds the more pies she dips her fingers in, the less she enjoys the taste.

However does one choose? However does one love and honour the channels of possibility, and then close it off in order to allow such frequencies to flow stronger into another? One which will bring her purpose and meaning. One which will bring forth intuitive alignment and shapeshift the external world to manifest the one she dreams of.

How does the ego correctly and concretely label the spirit? To find a pathway from invisible guide points and anchor down into an idea or a belief with such conviction and bravery?

Yesterday a revelation appeared whilst pondering the very topic of passion projects before her very eyes, weighing them up for judgement and worthiness. Demanding their deeper truths and meaning. And while themes of creativity and spirituality rose to the surface, someone looked her straight in the eye and asked What Is It She Wants from all of this? The answer came to her from within the undercurrent of vibrations and light.

Play.

That is her meaning. Her truth and expression. The freedom. The exploration. The fearlessness away from “getting it right” or “staying within the lines.”

For when she plays, be it through dance or writing or daydreaming, she is in alignment. In flow.

And though some of the pies might seem sensible or smart, a crowdpleaser or made exactly to the recipe, if it’s not allowing her to play, then it is not the pie for her.

Yet how do you balance the uninteresting tasks which are demanded from the human body and external societies when, in the words of Sheryl Crow, All I Wanna Do Is Have Some Fun?

Perhaps it starts with surrendering. And acceptance. Service to the body, and to this human life in which your spirit has chosen. And then comes the dedication. The obedience, the honourment of that purpose and the promise to fulfill it as best you can.

The remembrance to enjoy and play when you can. The forgiveness when that is forgotten. The reminder to try again.

And try and

try and

try

again.

Until your last breathe. Your last dance. Until the brush lifts from the canvas and you look at the piece in which you’ve created, whether it’s finished or not, and love it unequivocally.

And so she flows and flowers and grows.

She weathers the storm and forever questions if this is right?

She aligns herself and honours her purpose of play.

And so she goes.

And so she goes.

With arms in the air and clouds in the sky and soil between her toes.

A glass of rosé awaits nearby.

x Lindsay