Capture A Wildling At Your Peril

Today I spent an irretrievable amount of my life on the www.

With a straight face, I confess that part of that time was spent being awe inspired by someone showing up and BEing themselves.

No apologies.

And lo and behold, one of the biggest draw cards for me being interested in her business is how she’s come off of social media. (Ironic I know).

Not using it to sell.

Not using it to connect.

Not using it to win friends and influence people.

Nothing.

It doesn’t light her up and it kills her creativity. It hurts her head and her heart, so she listened to these hurts and it made sense to her to stop.

She listened and she heard something fresh.

I listen to things. I listen to the extractor fan — I love when silence swallows it.

I listen to my babies breathing when I check on them at night.

I listen to my husband snoring as he commandeers our bed at night.

I listen to my thoughts, my fears, my voices as they cascade and waterfall through my mind.

Never stopping for breath and yet always finding life.

Swirling, grabbing, whispering, pounding.

Always there.

Until they’re not.

They get swallowed up by each other.

They tumble and congeal.

Changing and transforming.

Breathing, living, dying.

They are on their own.

Wildlings running unhindered in the galaxy of my mind.

They are free.

They are safe.

They are harmless.

Until captured.

Capture a wildling thought at your peril.

No two are ever the same.

Not all have teeth.

Not all have wings.

Not all will fight.

Not all will play.

None will stay.