palms to the sky
I stood in the front of the ocean and held my palms upwards. Tell me what to do, I asked. I wanted her wisdom. Insights into what the path was. How to get there. Where it would lead. She washed over my toes, as sand crunched underneath me. I looked out into the abyss, thinking that maybe, somewhere outside of myself, I could find answers.
I stared and waited. Nothing but sea and sky showed up. No messages carved out into the clouds. No signs in the waves, rolling in on request. No sounds, mostly silent moments. But every time the tide came in, I knew. I knew it was up to me to find the answers. To have trust that things would keep moving like they always do. That the cycles within me were no different than the moon and the sun. That I was being guided even when I felt alone. Even more so then.
You were listening. Good girl, she said as I walked away. But you didn't speak. You said nothing, I told her. And yet, you heard me, she replied. I smiled as another wave broke and somewhere off in the distance, the last of the light said good night.
Trust that you will always find the answers. Periods of lost in translation will turn into transformation.
You will discover that you knew the way all along.
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