From confusion to clarity

It feels cyclical at times: the ways and patterns that show up in our lives like snowflakes dressed in nostalgia. We see yet do not notice until the screams happen. Have you ever heard the screams? They rage against the wild of the inside, no longer able to remain there in the quiet. In those moments, we feel what has been shaken and stirred, mixing what seemed clear with what is now confusion. What gets in the way of our deepest understanding if not our attachment to the noise? There are wounds with imprints and grooves so deeply familiar that our default is to align with them. We ignore the nudge of transformation that calls us to step back and see more clearly.

The ego seems to awe and inspire even as it causes aches and angst. How easily we give way to the hypnotic pull of its illusion even as the scraps on our knees widen, and the pain from having been bent down deep by its blows debilitates. We find a way to make room for it. So used to acquiescing that we forget the ego isn’t real. Illusion, like smoke and mirrors, distorts to the place of confusion. Clarity loses its crisp and we fall—again.

It feels cyclic at times: the ways and patterns that show up in our lives like snowflakes dressed in nostalgia. Yet when we notice what we see, we can decide to pause and pivot. From the pivot, we transform confusion into clarity, quieting the ego to hear what is true.