Our lives call to us
Our lives call to us—we have many names for this—the still, small voice that calls us. The one that is calm and quiet and shows us the way, if only we will listen.
Sometimes, though, that voice is not so small, and not so quiet and still. My own voice roared at me once, a NO! so loud that it woke me up in the night. And then she faded to almost nothing when I couldn’t figure out how to do what she told me to do without disappointing people—my deepest fear.
She stayed quiet for years.
I’m so grateful that she worked up the courage to whisper again. To call me—Over here. I’m right here. This is your path. I promise you that it will be OK. You will be OK.
As I looked out to the mountains from Montenegro’s Black Lake, breathing air so clean that I nearly stopped breathing in shock, I thanked my voice for coming back. I thanked her for calling me back to my path, for she led me here.
Gallery: Sundry Wonders
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