Deconstruction
This year has been a phase of deconstruction.
I can look back and think, wow, I haven’t done much. I don’t have much to show for this last year of life. I’ve been stuck and lonely and I haven’t built what I’ve wanted to build.
I haven’t built because I’ve been busy deconstructing. It’s easy to forget about this important process. It’s hard work.
I’ve been tearing down the stagnant, moldy, outdated structures that sit on the glorious abundant land that is my internal world.
I cannot build atop a shaky foundation. I cannot build my dream home without first demolishing what’s in its place, clearing out all that obstructs the beautiful view.
So, I’ve been demolishing.
Identifying, acknowledging, and releasing old patterns, relationships, and material items that no longer serve me. Making room for what’s new and fresh to come in.
Getting really clear on what I desire, so I can cast away anything that’s not in alignment, and build from the ground up exactly what is.
This phase is not glamorous. In fact it is quite the opposite. It’s dark and dirty and often sad and dissapointing. It can feel empty. All the distractions that have filled the empty space, gone.
But I wait and trust, knowing that a better, higher quality version is being built.
…
There’s a moment between - after the old structure has been demolished, before the new one has been built, that you find yourself sitting alone on empty land wondering why you just destroyed the only home you had.
Keep a photo in your pocket to remind yourself of what your working on - the floor plans for your new home. With big windows overlooking luscious green hills, letting in fresh air, carrying the smell of your favorite flowers. It’s on its way.
You are many steps closer than you were staying in that old moldy structure - with no view of the glorious landscape, no fresh air, no floral aromas.
The ground is now available. Pat yourself on the back for the hard work and bravery it took to clear that space.
It may feel empty, but at least now you can feel the sun on your skin and the fertile ground beneath your feet.
You are well on your way. Keep going.