Leg Go or Let Be

The pit in my stomach tightens as I desperately grasp onto the picture of my life

"But it looks so good in my head," I plead.

Me..sunkissed, wavy hair, wearing a polka dotted dress that hugs the curves of my feminine body

My hand caressing my rounded belly, feeling new life

I dance in the open fields as I  relish in watching the satisfaction my ginger bearded husband receives from stacking logs of wood one by one by one...

"This is how its supposed to be! It's just before completion!" I protest, digging my heels into the ground. But the more I dig the the heavier my heart becomes.

10 years ago it started as a whisper easy to cover up with the daily routines of life, adventures, and plans for a distant future

Now that the future is our present the whispers of doubt have caught up with us

We admit to ourselves that we jointly collaborated in uniting our fears instead of our hearts

And now we must be diligent in discerning between the sadness of letting go and a real love that beckons us to stay

But what if its not the relationship that has to go but the notions we've held of it?

Can we unravel this knot of fear that we have collaborated in creating?

Can we not fall victim to our mind's habitual ways of making our present about reliving the past?

Can we learn to see each other not through our clouded lens of interpretation, but wholly and perfectly as each of us are?

The pit in my stomach tightens again... "But he keeps me at arms length," I plead, "and  I want someone with whom I can burn wildly like a fire merging together into infinite vastness

Is this passion I yearn for what draws the moth to the flame?

Is it what will bring my destruction or what will bring about my resurrection?

I flip flop again and wonder if that passion is sustainable. When you pack a stove so tightly with no space for the fire to breath, it goes out

Perhaps there is some wisdom in the space we have created and if we sit with it and hold it consciously in our hearts past the point of discomfort, it will transform.

Do we let go or do we let be?