Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

Passion = COURAGE “Diaries”

“What’s the bravest you’ve ever been?”

Passion is the fuel by which we live. It can warm us, it can inflame us, it can destroy us. Without it life is dry and pointless. We are born with majestic passions that seem ungovernable.

Our specific passions may seem strange to other people, but no one’s yet been born with none at all. The trick is managing them and making them work for us. A complication is that our passions change and evolve. Fantasies that kept us warm in childhood seem empty to us now. Sometimes in the busyness of life we find ourselves working so hard for other people’s goals our own seem to vanish and life becomes dry and tasteless.

What do we really want? What makes us happy? What ignites our best self and completes our growth process?

It isn’t too soon to imagine how our eulogy should read! Explorer? Poet? Dreamer? Lover? Person?

Passion gives us courage. Courage is hard-won. Whenever it seems to come “naturally”, that’s because we didn’t assess the possible consequences of our actions. That’s not courage, that’s foolhardiness. When we understand the dangers and move forward anyway, that’s true courage.

When we contemplate sharing our deepest self with another, what do we risk? We risk exposure, humiliation, misinterpretation, minimization, stigmatization. Those are serious risks, but the only way forward is through. Don’t pretend you don’t care or it doesn’t matter; hardening ourselves only devalues the very prize we seek as well as our ability to enjoy it and be transformed by it.

To seek depth we must give depth. The secret is self-compassion, to accept our own humanity. Once we can do that we are given the key of seeing deeply into others. We are not interested in those pretending they are less than human – they can neither help us nor themselves. We resolve to keep going – courageously – in our search for The One.

Diaries

I don’t remember anything –
Amnesiacs
Write everything down
Stuffed in my closet
Among discarded gowns
(Smelling just the same)
Useless but
Too beautiful to throw away. How
I recollect & treasure
The act of writing
An up and over downtime scrawl
Recall the surgeon
Cutting at my flesh
Tugging splitting sweating
Recall liftoff – finally
Airborne ; my
Hawk’s-eye vision sees
Backwards & forwards –
Past into future.
Too much dig is spoilage;
Freedom mined is
Priceless.