Believing Beyond Feeling

I woke up this morning feeling groggy.

Out of it.

Blah.

Bleh.

Meh.

I couldn’t get a foothold on myself, my center.

It felt like I had no energy, no vision.

I couldn’t see beyond the funk.

And I wanted beyond the funk.

I wanted to feel the energy I know I am,

the energy I know exists so freely within.

And, to be honest, I feel a bit of it still, as I write.

But I write, because I know there’s more.

I write because I know that I know that I know that I know.

I write because there’s something bigger,

something bigger than feeling blah,

something bigger than the funk,

something bigger than the not feeling all of me.

I write because I believe,

I trust,

I follow my truth.

It’s so precious,

so worthy, this knowing, this faith,

that my heart and my soul rises to meet it.

It’s an honor to walk in the faith that has been cultivated within.

I honor my faith by moving from it.

I honor my faith by choosing from it.

I honor my faith by living according to it.

When the feelings are low,

when the energy isn’t quite at the level I want it to be.

Faith calls,

it pulls,

it draws me close.

Because I know what it is, where it’s sourced,

because I know, within faith, within the trust I put in my Life, in God, in my soul,

because I feel its truth, even when I don’t feel it,

I go.

I do the thing that I know I’m meant to do,

I be the person I know I’m meant to be,

I choose and claim what I know I’m meant to have.

Because it’s non-negotiable for me to not live by faith,

to not trust who I am,

to not live the life I’m meant to live.

Because, at this time, there’s no question.

I don’t have to see to believe,

I don’t even have to feel to believe.

I believe.

I know.

I trust that my destiny is to embody my destiny.

And I let my life unfold accordingly.

And so, I will do the thing people don’t want to do.

I do it easily, freely, powerfully, because I chose it.

Because I put my faith, my knowing first.

And I let it be easy.

I let it be true.

I let it be me.

So it is.