Your childhood would have either been at least

a bit arid or overrun with strong winds and ongoing

cloudbursts. These early beginnings were marked by

too much or too little affection, attention and

encouragement. There would be no perfect climate.

You would turn to the only thing in your control.

You were not able to change what was coming

at you. So you changed the size of your soul. Or

at least pretended you could. Some under-sizing

would offer the hope that your family would not

feel burdened by your feelings,  or your needs.

Your motto became, “I’m not really here”.

Your alleged absence would be supported by

pretending that what you think or desire is

of no consequence. Of course, your offering or

your gifts would recede and you would fixate

upon your wounds, convinced that’s who you were.

Such convincing led you to some contrived safety.

You may have over-dressed in order to deal

with the prevailing conditions of childhood.

Convinced that you were larger than the 

unpredictable storms, you would hoist yourself

up beyond your limits. You found yourself talking

yourself  and others into your alleged importance.

It is always time to come home to yourself. Like

all arduous undertakings, you’ll need to get honest

about your task. False modesty offered scaffolding

to your under-sizing. You strove not to burden.

Your right size is simply to be ordinary. Home is

the gentle welcoming of your gifts and wounds.

Your over-sized experience was underpinned by arrogance.

The task is to dismantle arrogance without some harsh

criticism about a need to be swollen. You were dealing

with what appeared to be unfathomable forces,

winds that seemed ready to blow you away. Come home,

one step at a time to an ordinary soul awaiting you.

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