The Wound Is A Wild Place

Our greatest regret in life is most likely going to be that we never made our lives our own: that we lived according to what others expected of us and never walked off into the wild unknown to find what authenticity tasted like. We have wounds created by contorting our bodies, our lives, and our work into shapes that are not truly our own. Where have you had to give up a fundamental piece of yourself and called it love/being good/being a martyr? Thanks for being here, Sez

Reviews

The shape of my wound turns out to be creation. There is always something new and unexpected that arises after a seeming death or loss.

Your words are always comforting and inspiring. Thank you for sharing.✨🙏🏼💜✨

What is the shape of your wound? What an astonishing question. What a powerful poem.

Found this perfect gem of poetry while hesitantly approaching an abiding lack or hole or refusal I have been fighting to fix. Powerful pointing out instructions are here.

I listened to 3 abundance meditations this morning and stopped them all in progress because none of them addresses the poverty wound. This recording gets straight to the point. The voice is soft and slow, giving plenty of time for feeling the words. And the words! Healing poetry melting away my poverty scars. I felt bathed in medicinal mystery.