How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.” – J.R.R. Tolkien
So you’ve stumbled into the Second Journey. Uh oh. What now?
Should you go East? West? North or South?
Right now it doesn’t matter. You’re not really lost, you see. But you’ve turned an incredible corner.
Unsettling? Yes. Earth-shattering? Sometimes it really is. You realize things you never knew before, and quite frankly, you’re not sure what to do with the information. Or maybe you know what you need to do but your heart hurts. May I share something with you? The pain of feeling stuck feels worse than any pain it’ll take you to change. I know this to be true.
Two things are certain:
1. You’re not alone
2. But you can’t go back the way you came. Nope.
Welcome to the Second Journey.
Now watch for red flags and low-flying monkeys. If you’re wading through a little brain fog, that’s fairly normal around here. But that rear view mirror? Pfft! Don’t trust it. “Objects in the rear view mirror may appear larger than they are.” Remember? So use that rear view to simple gauge how far you’ve come. Otherwise, we’ll bump into signposts, campsites, noisy distractions, and wooly little lying varmints trying to snatch our joy. Don’t let ’em. Keep checking here for soul food, spiritual first aid, and little heart gifts.
Because life’s a trip.
The second half is nothing like the first. Not at all what we expected, yet more than we imagined.
I’m not a sherpa, guide, hobbit, or sage. I can’t even read a road map. I’m just a fellow wanderer tapping out thoughts on a broken keyboard – a gray-haired scribe with way too many adjectives. I should eat those adjectives; I’ve certainly eaten crow. So don’t take me too seriously; I love a little humor. And if I go all mystical or melancholy on you, feel free to reel me in.
The road feels long yet life is short.
I dream of us growing into the men and women we truly are, gathering here to tell our stories. Takes courage to speak the truth; to admit where we ache, to share in the art of overcoming. When grace dispels the myths that pummeled our identity in the first place, we start seeing what lay hidden on the former journey. The story of who we really are is setting us free. We’re free to flex these courage muscles, drop the mask, and lay the baggage down.
Maybe you’ve been hit with unexpected detours. The journey’s not been kind, and you’re annoyed I’d even ask. I get it. If you need a kind word, encouragement, companionship, or hope – may I ask you to join me here?
No weigh-stations – just a place of reckoning. The Second Journey is teaching me to let go, reach forward, and stop looking back. It’s a beautiful place. Not easier, but far more authentic. We might wear makeup, but not the mask. And people won’t like that. Like someone once said, “When I realized people loved my mask, and not the real me, something had to change.”
To that end:
• We accept the detours that led us here. Acceptance is key.
* We stop wrestling over things we can’t change, and rest in the God-mystery.
* We see ourselves “accepted in the Beloved” and stop beating ourselves up.
* We embrace personal scars, and on a good day, we might even risk showing them to someone.
Telling our stories can be very transformative. I want to hear yours.
Beautiful Sojourner, welcome to your one and only Second Journey.
Your sister scribe,
© Victoria Thomas, 2015-2016.
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