The day is heavy with clouds. They press down on my shoulders with their weight much like the secrets in my heart. I inhale and exhale, shrugging my shoulders, throwing off unwanted burdens. Clouds, clouds, go away. Come back another day.
I had not known they were there – the secrets, till I felt their presence knotting up my heart. They demanded to be heard, to be reckoned with. I had no choice but to bring them out into the light of my consciousness.
I’m digging in my garden. With each weed that comes out, the knot is looser, the weight coming off little by little. I can breathe easier and I can see what I would not before. Life and gardens are like that. You can’t see the truth for all the weeds. You have to weed them out, however painful it is.