Release the urge to get it right
Perfection is the joy destroyer.

Release the desire to sound eloquent
To have the right words delivered
At the exact moment.

Release and trust that I will receive
What I’m meant to.

There is no end goal
No finish line
No final product.

We are all works in progress
And there is always room for more:
More edits, for rewrites, to rehashing
And then what’s left?
Hacked up, tattered words
Left on the page.

Torn fragments.
Might as well make confetti
And see where the words land.
That would show perfection.

I don’t have to do it right
Or get it right.
There is no finish line where 
I suddenly become who I’m meant to be.

I am her now.
I embrace and embody her now.
There is no “there” to get to.
I am the joy, the connection,
The creator.

I am the words that you see,
The sounds that you hear.
They are all a part of me
And a part of you too.

Where does creativity come from?
The seed of the soul is my guess.

What seeds are you going to plant today?
What nourishment does your soul desire?
What would you like to plant?

Place them in your palm
And touch the earth.
You are forever supported
And nourished.