|Art by Rebecca Dautremer.|
|Rebecca Dautremer illustration, JULES VERNE, 2016.|
Multiple decades of living have schooled me. They have enlightened and confused and guided me, taught me to recognize the urgings from which my truth emerges. I have learned, I continue to learn, to attend my soul's guidance.
My mother once told me that when I tried to lie I lit up like a tilt sign. While I knew in the moment she intended to discourage further attempts at dishonesty, I also believed her. While the blaring of a flashing tilt sign may be more internal now than it was then, it is no less present, certainly no less emphatic.
While we find companionship and support in numbers, in reality we always ride alone. In certain respects each of us is an army of one, directed on a unique assignment. Adhering to my own truth while legions would have me join and follow can be isolating. Worse, it may cause me to doubt what I have come to know as my path. It seems part of what we are here to be is misunderstood, for it is impossible, not to mention onerous, trying to explain a state so clear when viewed within and so limp and inadequate-appearing when held to the light of day and critical eyes. We want those who care for us to understand, to trust our self-knowing, realizing they may not.
What any of us is best equipped to do is be ourself. To be that we must first know just what that means. Arriving at that information is a lengthy, possibly lifelong process. Such awareness is hard-won, its value unquestionable. We navigate our days amid the noise of many voices. Know the one that speaks to and for you with the greatest honesty and attend to that.