When we loose the creative power of our thoughts to set the momentum of our spirit in motion, we are unwittingly permitting ourselves the liberty of truly being, precisely what we are: free. Constantly changing. Perpetually evolving into a more deeply dimensional whole of the previous fragmented parts of ourselves. When we step outside of the feelings we’ve grown all too accustomed to existing within as we carry out our day, and we shift our perspective to see things from a higher vantage point, we make the greatest progress of all. The progress is not measured by the circumstances surrounding us. The progress is marked by a sudden shift in how we feel, how we perceive, how we empathize, how we interact, how we behave. The progress comes over us like the unexpected shift in seasons; we go to bed hot and tired, beaten by the intensity of an endless summer sun; and we awake to a slightly more slanted sunrise creeping down into our morning with the newness of a cool autumn breeze on our sunburnt skin.
It’s clockwork, and yet it always feels new and seems to come to us out of nowhere.
Progress is much the same. We run ourselves ragged and work ourselves into a familiar mindless oblivion, forgetting that the goal of our efforts exists whatsoever… Until one unassuming day much like any other, when we are met with some sudden result hanging in wait for us at the usual start of our day… And then we fall blindsided by the ‘miracle’ before us. Stunned, we step back from it all in attempt to process the change, the success, the progress… When we should have known all along it was bound to arrive and it surely would. Still, it always surprises us.
Funny how autumn slams itself head-first into existence like that. How easily we forget that every summer day is one step closer to the coming of fall. And the magic: it always feels new.