The pain of my pain is its imposition on my ability to show love to others. I accept the pain without judgment. It doesn’t come from a circumstance or issue though; in action it is a folding inward of the light I want to project and bestow on others. In action it is an inertia in the flow that my force seeks. My light retreats, it hides away, constricted and folded under layers of what I presume are blankets of fear and uncertainty. It is not bad, it just is. A block, sure, very physical, a tangible weight in my heart, but there is motion to it, there is something flowing, there is a process. It’s just contained and internal at the moment. I suppose it doesn’t need to be understood- just left to ferment and transmute to its next state, unknown to my vantage point right now.


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