When the outer doesn’t seem to match the inner
Related article: The Space Between Things
by Neva J. Howell unless otherwise noted
Is this the life I envisioned?
I live in one room, essentially.
It isn’t a particularly attractive room.
I ponder if this is the life that I envisioned because the vision seemed to hold so much more beauty and comfort. What went wrong? Did something go wrong?
As I feel into the energy of the space I’m living in — being alive in — I realize … it’s a trap to think it has to look a certain way.
My soul asked me to “be” a certain way, certainly, but the outer doesn’t necessarily have to add up to some magical, beautiful existance to be relevant, to be aligned, to be perfect.
I live … in this less than beautiful room. I live. That’s the main thing. That’s the thing I cannot afford to forget, ever.
Perhaps, just perhaps, it is a little trick of the mind that says to me, incessantly, it should look this way or that. Perhaps, the main thing is the beingness that inhabits whatever space there appears to be, to inhabit.
I still see the morphing of an outer reality that matches the inner bliss I often feel. I see that it is light and airy, there is running water nearby, there are beautiful colors and a most comfortable bed. I see this from my one room, in my one room, overlapping my one room reality.