She Came from a bowl of pears, plump, speckled with a splattering of caramel colored dots of ripening. She was left outside on the tree when the first frost came and fell to the ground as the sun rose and the frost melted around her feet. She longed to be baked. She didn’t care if it were into a pie or simply popped into the oven and baked to perfection whole until the juices began to seep out and form a glaze over her whole body. She didn’t know how she happened to reincarnate as a pear. She thought that each lifetime would be a higher vibrational being – or even to remain in the light and helping tend to nature from the other side of the veil. She had learned the most from this particular happening. She had learned that judgments, expectations, and longing was the greatest of human flaws. Simply being human wasn’t necessarily a blessing, it could, in fact, be a curse. Being born a pear was both humbling and somehow enlightening. She now knew what perfection was. Perfection was to love through the imperfections. To fully embrace her uniqueness, her one of a kind size and shape. To live fully into each moment. To love being still. To observe her surroundings and not get ahead of herself by the longing to be somewhere else or something else. To relish in the gradual dissolution…the sagging, the rotting and the oozing. To flatten back into the earth and be covered with fall leaves and snow and to become one with the worms, beetles, and mud. To not care what comes next. To feel the sensations and not to criticize or even care what comes next. She let go. She became not even close to a pear in a bowl. She journeyed farther from consciousness. She drifted off into space. She became an astronaut of sorts. She looked down at the planet as it became smaller and smaller. She felt as if she was so large that she was the Sun shining down, up, around and bursting into a billion pieces, showering meteors, raining pears, becoming darkness and being at peace with herself.
lamalady 1 Minute
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