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ersonal Narrative- The Path Towards Grace, Love and Peace
When I was 16 I left my parents home. One month before I left, I wrote this in my journal:
“What is the fluttering in my belly, rising up through my chest? An apprehension — a fear — excitement? I am anticipating a change — a falling down — a caving in of something I expect to be solid. I’m in a strange place, moving slowly forward with nothing that can be measured — an internal advancement, a shedding away of old selves. I am pared down.”
The story of my leaving still feels like something written in code — a code no one could understand on the rational mind level. It was my soul’s decision and no amount of explaining or writing has helped enlighten those who did not understand it. I barely understood it myself. To those who did understand, I had to say very little. They knew within the first two minutes of my telling. They were inevitably people who, at some point in their
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ersonal Narrative- The Path Towards Grace, Love and Peace
When I was 16 I left my parents home. One month before I left, I wrote this in my journal:
“What is the fluttering in my belly, rising up through my chest? An apprehension — a fear — excitement? I am anticipating a change — a falling down — a caving in of something I expect to be solid. I’m in a strange place, moving slowly forward with nothing that can be measured — an internal advancement, a shedding away of old selves. I am pared down.”
The story of my leaving still feels like something written in code — a code no one could understand on the rational mind level. It was my soul’s decision and no amount of explaining or writing has helped enlighten those who did not understand it. I barely understood it myself. To those who did understand, I had to say very little. They knew within the first two minutes of my telling. They were inevitably people who, at some point in their