Shedding the dead weight is not something we learn to love but ought to. Shedding the skin that held us together in times of distress or in times of love is not a practice we identify with so easily.
Think of it this way; our armors wear thin with time, sometimes we don’t need them at all and sometimes we take a few good hits and our skin feels as though it will never heal the same. So we carry our scars and our pains, we look at the blemishes and the bruises hoping to forget and possibly forgive. But why forget when you can heal and learn to create something new. Hopefully letting that scar tissue die off and peel away on its own.
The journey of letting go is one of faith, one of honor to our wounds and of pride in our strides whether they landed us in ditches or on top of the world. We all fall and we all crash, our flight is not always the smoothest and our landing sometimes isn’t so hard. There really isn’t just one way of living, but there is a great way to learning.
Look at the snake in all of its glory and all of its shameless length. The beauty in the snake being itself is its unabashed practice of shedding dead skin.
My dearest reader, as I feel a slight sadness about shedding some of my skin today I hope that you look yourself in the mirror and wonder about your dead weight, where does it lay exactly. Where do you hide the things you don’t want to face and what happens if you do face them slowly? What if you shed one thing at a time; have you any idea how brilliant it is to feel weightless?
So celebrate the weightlessness that lives within us and our conscious ability to make decisions. Let’s all learn to locate our points of pressure and try to diffuse them. Let us shed skin, hair, and people, let us claw at the fabric of our imagination and leave only what matters; only what allows us to become bigger, and what serves our ability to glow.