I practiced calling the wind like a Yaqui maiden. I sang to the storms as a beloved sorceress. I witnessed the lightning strike in time to my crescendo, a testament to my revelry for the great sky-father. I witnessed myself a catalyst, daughter to a clear conduit. The ultimate catalyst: allowing my electric heart to rouse my gratitude into a dance with my sorrow and witness the heavens dancing with my bitter joy.
Read MoreSuffering is like cleaning house for that hot date: your future self! Perhaps our souls co-created the toothsome grit with the heavens abound so that we may have a chance to kiss our own knees when we fall down in despair. If you subscribe to that, you'll see that your soul is just flirting with making out with herself.
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