I was a wanderer before I ever knew I was wandering.  Once I knew I was lost I started doing the first thing they tell us lost souls to do.  I started praying for guidance to some greater spirit.  Something stronger.  Something infinitely more.  More than anything I could ever be.  I prayed to the god of be-little-ment.  I started attending the church of pity. Got on my knees and begged for forgiveness for all my weaknesses.  I prayed for strength from beyond myself. Somewhere along the way, though it took me a long time to realize,  I had discredited myself. I started following the church of authority.  I believed what others told me before I ever believed myself.  When I was very innocent someone told me to let others think for me.  To not trust my own mind or ability.  Some authority told me to doubt myself.  They told me at home,  at school,  at church,  in books,  in music, in my companions, and nothing was sacred.  Nowhere was I safe from these violent thoughts and so I thought they must be true.  These suggestions that had consumed my subconscious so forcefully and yet so gently one could argue their reality if at all.  When I was very great but very young yet very infinite someone very afraid told me I could not trust my own mind because I was too young to know how to use it and I believed them.  Well I don’t believe anymore. I am very great but very young yet still very infinite and I know how to use my mind now.  I pray to myself now.  I have no beliefs beyond my own knowing.  I follow no authority beyond myself.  I am my Goddess.  I am infinitely kind and all loving.  People continue to tell me I am wrong but I no longer question my own judgment. I no longer serve the church of pity.  I no longer give sacrifice to the god of be-little-ment.  I am all deserving.  I am that I am.  No god is higher than my love.  The terrified call this sacrilege.  The brave,  grace.  There is no praise higher than the praise of self.  There is no ego where there is no belief.  There is no false god where there is awe.  Where there is love there can be no fear.  Without the light the darkness is merely void.  Without the wholeness of love there is not the fragment of doubt.  Though doubt is easy it has no sustenance ,  it is love that nurtures. Will you tend to the garden of self?  Out of it what will grow?  Perhaps all the wilderness that you’ve been craving. Perhaps with all the answers that you’ve been asking.  Perhaps an entire universe will blossom from the womb of your wonder if you nurture it.


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