You grow and grow, but unlike trees, you detach yourself from root. Only the root of home remains stuck to the sole of the foot, a root that guides your choices, feet that take you on paths that the mind cannot comprehend.
What detaches is the root of innocence, the gentle naivety of self that believes so fiercely in light.
What detaches is the root of playfulness that stretches you into openness and joy. Without this root, there is a dense seriousness, the mind tripping up into thoughts and patterns and justifications. Within playfulness, there is no thought, you are presence itself.
The root of ease in loving. When did fear replace your curiosity? Curiosity used to draw you in, like a sailor enchanted by the song of mermaids. You are caught in the nets of the mind, nets of reasoning and predictions, before the enchantment unfolds. You forbid yourself from falling in love as you cannot hold the uncertainty of falling. You reason your way through a stale love that doesn’t nourish, the mind predicting a drop, and not a rising. Anything you can’t define is a threat to your stability.
You hold on to your sanity until you become insane with rigidity. You are made of myth and magic yet you uproot all story like weeds and transform yourself in a straight and comprehensible machine.
Surrender and you will be guided, drawn in by the calling of what is really yours.
Some things find their way back to you.
Others, you find your way towards them, no matter what road you take. All roads lead to home.
Other things become threads of your story, weaving through the texture of your life, adding drops of colour and song.
Find your way back to the root of innocence, allow yourself to fall in love, embody the purity of a child, the curiosity and wonder at the potentiality of what you could find if only you were brave enough.
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