The Extraordinary Ordinary Life

I'm just like you.  Not that you've wondered.  But there is something liberating about saying it out loud.  

Yes, we have our differences, but the reality is that we each share the same human experience, no matter how many beautiful photos we post, how positive we might be, how many gratitudes we express, or how magical our lives look.  The fact remains:  we are all walking a similar path,  and sometimes we do a marvelous job of staying in the Love, and other times, we struggle.

What makes me think of this is a few moments I spent on Instagram this morning, watching a new love unfold for a glamorous yogini sister of mine, seeing her sweet beach retreat, and her worldly travels, and gorgeous body photos and knowing that her pain runs as deep as mine, her blood as red, and her mortality as real.  

Why mention this?  Maybe because my heart gets heavy too sometimes when I sit in my 10 year old sweatpants and second hand shop sweatshirt, having just mucked out stalls and fed the goats and feel somehow that my life is separate from "yours", convincing myself for a split second that there is  no romance here.  And then I breathe out.  And instead of feeling alone, and so NOT Hollywood out here at the end of our dead end road with mud on our boots, I remember, simply, to.... breathe....   And so I share... in the hopes that maybe this brings you ease in the separate corners of your own heart.  And that maybe this reminds you, too, as it does me, that we are all connected, and this, in fact, is very, very romantic.    And that what I may feel is in my way at any given point in my life just very well may be THE way.

I repeat:

 - WHAT IS IN THE WAY IS THE WAY -

Get curious, my friends, about what shrinks you.  Not about the shrinker... but instead about the one being shrinked.  And what that is all about -- curious about what old wound it brings up, what sense of lack or loss, or memory.   And then, become curious about what expands you. What fills you and makes you rise.  

Then fly, my friend.  Fly. 

An excerpt from a self-published book I wrote in 2005.

Namaste,

Britt

Britt B Steele

Britt B Steele, USA