I had the pleasure of meeting today’s guest blogger when I went to Cleveland a few months ago for the Creative Dig Workshop. The first thing I noticed about Christine was her big welcoming smile that makes you feel like you will be safe with her.  Christine is a deeply spiritual person, and she shares her wisdom and her struggles over at BlissChick. Christine is on her own amazing journey this week, to a magical place called Kripalu where she’s dancing and dreaming and following her calling.

For far too long, I have been trying to keep a lid on my soul’s most precious dreams. This lid is sturdy, made of things like “practicality” and “realism.”

To be more specific, this lid is made of stories about what I “should” want or “can” have.

The first thing I did to construct the lid, many years ago, was tell myself that as I age, yoga would be better for me than dance. I would be able to do yoga for my whole life. It would help me to age gracefully.

Who knew it would simply age me? I wanted to dance, and there is no substitute for your soul’s work that will not age you. Your soul’s work will keep you youthful and vital. Infinite, as you are meant to be.

The second thing I did to create and tighten this lid was to tell myself that I have always wanted to be a writer.

I am a good writer. I have an excellent relationship with that particular muse; she is generous with the ideas.

That does not mean writing completely fulfills me. Only your soul’s work will truly fulfill you. Yes, you can do many other things, but your soul will still ache and cry out for what it needs.

Eventually, if you keep this lid screwed on tightly enough, your soul will shrivel and you will join the ranks of the Walking Dead. You know them. You’ve seen them in your daily life. Perhaps you see one when you look in the mirror.

Their eyes lack luster. They martyr themselves to the needs of others. They are exhausted all the time.

I have no idea by what Grace I was freed of this fate, but one day I danced and the lid popped off and my Soul got the fresh air she needed.

I have been dancing ever since.

I cannot not dance. No matter what, I know I would find a way to do this work.

There are days that I struggle, still, because I am human.

Yet…there is one giant clue that I am home, that I am finally free.

I am no longer encumbered by a desire for Perfection. I am in love with Process. I am in love with the day to day of dance.

My body tells stories — true stories — when I allow her to fumble and to falter.

When I loose the bridle of perfection that has kept me tied to a life of lies and settling, I shine.

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