It is easy to slide away from compassionate self-inquiry, and slip into a type of self-analysis that is much more like an interrogation of the soul, and lose the lightness, and perspective, as if demanding something from ourselves that could never come through force, only drawn out under the gaze of love, or teased out by curiosity. The holding space of new, potentially healing words, can become a prison that defines and confines rather than liberates.
You don't even know how you got there. One minute you were on a lovely winding country road, then you ended up on a crazy busy highway, as if the vehicle of your brain went into self-drive and took you away from the places where you could hear the still small voice of your soul, to a place too hectic for healing, and it is now time to take hold of the wheel and guide yourself back to the beauty, back to the place of compassion, and back to love.
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