Dear Universe, although I desire to make a life as an artist I’m afraid I don’t believe you have my back. How could I? Trauma, terror, destruction of the planet is having our backs? How could that be? Dear Universe, I don’t believe you care but it’s easier for me to hear what I think when I write to you. Dear Universe, you don’t have my back, but maybe I always have. I have always had my back, I’m supposed to believe that? Look at this mess you’ve gotten into. That wasn’t you, love. That was an impossible world. You have always done the best you could with limited choices. Even now, you are doing the best you can. The universe does not have your back, but you do. And you’re not the only one. There are people who want to see you thrive. Remember I’m rooting for you.
God, The Universe, Source—whatever you call it, I’ve always struggled with the idea that there is something out there supporting my desires.
For a while I tried acting as if I believed the Universe had my back. That worked okay, but what if I acted as if I had my back? What if I did have my back?
I’m curious…
Does the Universe, God, Source have your back?
Do you?
Who else does?
Time travelling through your posts this morning, Ryn. Thanks for planting the seeds here. They are medicine.