Dimes and Pennies

 

I came to America with a strong resolve. A kind of plan, that was beautifully coming together with somewhat certainty in the months to follow yet very open ended adventuring and possibilities.

I came to America with a strong resolve, dimes, pennies and quarters counted and packed in separate little purses and bags, with a label of how much was in each. I knew in my gut I was meant to go. That the time and land were ripe. I laughed a Peter Pan laugh as I said I knew not were this journey would lead me, perhaps on the side of the road penniless, broken, lost; but still I knew I must go.
In the resolve I was full of fire (as well as fear) but I had a deep set knowing that this was the right path. It felt like righteousness. Like God’s will. I felt aligned.
Maybe that’s just what blind adventure feels like?

Whatever it is, “privilege” as a woman I infinitely admire put it; I still have those pennies.

I am not on the side of the road.

I have been learning lessons. Lessons that engulf my mind and heart and soul and resolve.

I take a step back and check my time log, staring at those pennies. Some, if not all of the resolve lost. Is it lost or is it transformed? An exited one, adventure gleaming in my eye, I pranced an ocean across at how wonderous and necessary it all was. Now, here, I yearn for that far off land left while still knowing, it is not time yet to return. I am still searching, still digging.

I expect blessings on the way. Yet I feel I have come to expect a certain type of blessings.

Perhaps I also expect a certain type of curse.

Indeed, in striving not to have any expectations, it seems I often actually, in withholding from expecting the best, I often expect the worst.
I don’t expect blessings and care from those who love me. And yet, here I am showered with it. I do, feel privileged. It seems too much love for me when there is such lack throughout, I want to divy it up more evenly throughout those I see around me.

A life long lesson I presume, of experiencing the care from those who care for me.

Of appreciating blessings from above in material forms I need and yet do not desire, without allowing them to shape what I do desire and need.

I have been learning and transforming and perhaps drifting.

Journeying.

We walk through fire and lose parts of ourselves, but is not the loss itself, the story of the loss, really who we are? Is our identity not in the whole of the play?

There is a wealth I have been given here. I treasure it immensely and seek to love it even more dearly in those moments.
I have grown hungry but not in my belly.

The spiritual seeking, loss and disconnection lead the pursuit of food that satisfies the soul. Sharpens the sword.

In a society where “lack of purpose” is a doomsay, let us recognize the gift in each and every day. Sometimes you don’t “feel it”. I do believe we cycle through life and we each are in different spheres at different “times”.

No, I don’t know and understand

But I do still have those pennies. And adventure is still ahead.

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