Today is a packing day. I finished my recent commission and it’s time to send it to another country. To release something, put it in the hands of others, is no small thing. But that’s what it was made for, to reach this destination. So I have to let go. Trust — the final bridge to everything, I suppose.
Trust has always been hard for me. As a child, I gave it away freely, this precious cargo, until one day, it was damaged. Beyond repair? I didn’t know. So I kept packing. Protecting that heart at all costs. Bubble wrapped. Shrink wrapped. Permission wrapped – tightly. Even behind all that protection, I guess I always knew this was not the final destination.
It’s not lost on me that to reach our home, you have to cross a bridge, the Pont des trois sautets. I made that choice. To cross over. I trusted my heart. His. And found myself at home.
You will be asked today, tomorrow, to keep moving forward — to cross that bridge. Not as a punishment, but as a gift. There is so much beauty that lies ahead!
