Of late, I have been wondering how to resolve the conundrum created when I feel like I am the broken world waiting for the light, rather than being able to be the light for which the broken world is waiting.
I have been drawing deeply on my practice of honouring the ugly duckling feelings, the ones I would rather farm out for adoption, than embrace and cherish. Honouring those feelings is like dancing between being the broken world and being the light for which it waits.
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