Rosa said, “Now if she pours honey on it and even pays for it…”
I told Jasmine what Rosa said.
Jasmine wrote, “Why?”
I wrote back to Jasmine saying, “Isn’t it clear why?”
I didn't want to go on writing to her.
I did not want to offend God because God had already knocked on her door too many times.
But I couldn't stop myself from writing, from pouring out my heart. Here are the pearls of truth born in my heart, meant for Jasmine but not sent to her:
There's a whisper in the wind, a melody on the edge of hearing, and I know you can feel it too. It's the call of your soul, a symphony yearning to be played, its instruments tuned and waiting, strings vibrating with potential. But you stand there, arms crossed, head bent, your mind a barricade against the music.
I wonder why, my friend. Why do you turn away from the ecstasy that shimmers just beyond your fingertips? I see the flicker of doubt in your eyes, the fear that clutches your heart like a too-tight shroud. "What if this is wrong?" you ask, your voice a hesitant echo in the vastness of your own soul.
But is it? Tell me, have you truly tasted the divine sweetness of surrender? Have you danced with the wind, laughed with the thunder, kissed the fireflies on a moonless night? Or do you walk a path paved with "shoulds" and "musts," a map drawn by societal expectations and the ghosts of unlived dreams?
Your mind, that cunning architect, builds walls of logic and reason, each stone meticulously placed to keep the wildness at bay. It tells you of safety in stagnation, comfort in predictability, but oh, my friend, it has never known the vibrant chaos of a heart set free.
You say you yearn for happiness, yet you reject the very ingredients that would bake it golden. You crave adventure, yet your feet remain rooted in the familiar. You dream of flight, yet clip your wings with the scissors of doubt.
I see your potential, a kaleidoscope of colors waiting to be splashed onto the canvas of your life. I see the laughter that lives in your eyes, the courage that sleeps beneath your fears, the passion that yearns to break free like a hummingbird trapped in a cage.
Don't mistake responsibility for the shackles of conformity. The true responsibility lies in embracing the symphony within, in owning your desires, your flaws, your magnificent, messy humanity. It's in the letting go, in the trusting of the rhythm of your own soul, that you find the freedom to be fully, gloriously yourself.
This life, this precious gift, is not meant to be monochrome. It's a canvas begging for vibrant hues, a stage primed for the pirouettes of your passion. Don't let fear dim the spotlight, friend. Take a step, a twirl, a leap of faith into the unknown.
God, as you call it, isn't playing some cosmic game of peek-a-boo. The door is always open, the invitation always extended. It's not about chasing after some divine approval, but about opening your heart wide enough to receive the love that already surrounds you.
So listen to the music, my friend. Feel the beat in your chest, the rhythm in your veins. Let your mind take a backseat, a silent observer as your soul takes the stage. Dance with the fireflies, sing with the thunder, laugh with the wind. Let your life be a masterpiece, a vibrant testament to the symphony that played within you all along.
And when you do, when you finally step into the light, don't be surprised if God is already there, not with a disappointed frown, but with a smile and a whispered, "Welcome home."
Remember, the greatest ecstasy often lives just beyond the edge of comfort. Will you answer the call of your soul, or will the symphony remain forever unheard, a melody locked away in a heart afraid to sing? The choice, my friend, is yours.
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