Waking up with the "Women Who Run with the Wolves" | Day 29 of 33 Sunrises
"Emet. Emet. Emet..." I hear whispered on the wind. The Hebrew word for truth.
A random parking garage. A book that has been calling me for a few months now. A rising sun. The promise of truth ~emet~ in unanswered questions. A beating heart, in solitude, feeling the wind on skin, warm humid air and long strands of hair tickling a nose and bare shoulders and blush dusted cheeks.
Are we woman enough to step away from everything? What lies on the other side? What calls to us from the deepest darkest woods, from where we've come?
Freedom. Freedom. Freedom. whispered on the wind.
Freedom to be. Freedom to think. To create. To live. To love. To give. To accept.
To be. Who we are, in all of our soul-filled glory.
Not who the world is making us.
Not what social media demands of us.
Not what anyone or anything believes we should or shouldn't be.
Who we are.
The sacred name of the Creator of the Universe is translated into English "I am that I am."
But if we take away the Hebrew vowel points (there are no vowels in the Hebrew language) and read only the Hebrew letters it says in essence "It is what it is."
We demand explanations for things we feel and think as if they need explanation.
Strip everything away. The music. The storyline we're playing in our heads.
When there's no agenda. When there's no history. When it's only this moment right here.
"If only our hearts could hold signs like doors
Yours would say healing"