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Loving The Mess

Your Mess

Sometimes vexes me.  But that’s my own stuff.  You’re the perfect mirror, reflecting back the bullshit I dump on you.  I do this because you let me.  You let me because your love is so big.  Nothing, not even the dark mask I wear, scares you from what your discerning Feminine Heart knows to be true.  The truth that I am here to liberate, not oppress, love.

And it is this knowing that keeps you firmly anchored against the torrent of my anger and blame.  You never waver.  Never making me wrong or blaming me for the mess I make of “your mess” but loving me unconditionally through it.

And it is in these moments that the teeter totter wildly swings, and sometimes breaking, as we make art out of the mess.  The messes you make to get my attention.  The messes you make to bring me back to you.  The messes you make to beckon me back to living my purpose.

Messes made, messes shared, all for the sake of love.

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