There is a burning in my soul. This fire is fuelled by a part of me I cannot control.
It’s a calling.
It’s a life force.
It’s my dharma.
It fuels my everyday breath. It wakes me in the morning, with a ‘yes!’ It wakes me in the middle of the night with lists to write: of ideas and inspirations. It fastens me to my chair, writing, writing, writing: emails, articles, blog posts, responses, outreaches, meditations. It flings me out the door, down the sidewalk to the cafe where someone else who has gotten in touch is waiting.
There is a burning in my soul. Sometimes, I think I’d like to put it out.
It exhausts me.
It asks too much.
It demands more than I have to give.
Except, of course, it doesn’t. I have never been stronger, healthier, happier, freer. I have never felt such love. I have never had this much to give. Like a bird in flight–cresting on the spirals in the air. The fuel is always there.
There is a burning in my soul. I have given it my life.
It heals me.
It inspires me.
It is everything I have ever been and ever will be.
It asks me again and again to simply be of service. It shines a light down the path so I can see the way—once I finally let go of where I thought I was going. It grows into me and out of me ever more deeply, cracking my hardened shells, binding me to the earth, opening me to the sky.