When something flows, it flows.
It flows freely, joyfully, delightfully.
There’s certain way one gets lost in flow.
And there’s no desire to be found.
The flow becomes everything.
And everything becomes flow.
It’s a beautiful thing.
A wonderful thing.
A thing we are all meant for.
It’s lovely that it looks different for every person.
It’s beautiful that it exists for every person – no exception.
It’s a gift – yet a birthright.
It’s the intersection of humanity and divine.
The meeting place of heart and soul.
Knowing what that means in one part of my life makes me want it in all parts of my life.
I don’t think there needs to be a part where I don’t feel flow.
Perhaps that’s idealistic. Or naive.
And I say, I don’t care.
Because sometimes it’s the foolish that get close to God / universe, that partner hand-in-hand in bringing heaven to earth.
Because it’s faith and unfettered desire that ushers in the impossible and the glorious.
It takes a certain level of not knowing, of relentless pursuit of desire that invites the flow.
But I also noticed – flow cannot happen in a place of desperation.
No true pursuit of pure desire takes one into darkness, into hopelessness, into feeling inadequate without the having, without the attaining.
Flow is a birthright – and a gift.
It’s to be respected and honored.
It’s elusive and inevitable, simultaneously.
It’s both the serene river and the pounding waterfall.
It’s both inviting and unforgiving.
To be in flow is to be in service to life and to allow life to be in service to me.
It’s a sweet sweet thing to know.