release

Joy comes when you turn it over to God to deal with. This is when you will feel the true release from it's weight.

As much as I had always longed to be freed of my duties and obligations, being released from such bonds was as much a severing as an emancipation.

Sacrifice is a passion that unleashes everything away from us so that it can be drawn into everyone around us.

We stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything. In his eyes, there was no trace of what had happened between us earlier and I could feel something inside me break.So that was that. We were finally, finally over.I looked at him, and I felt so sad, because this thought occurred to me: 'I will never look at you the same way again. I'll never be that girl again. The girl who comes running back every time you push her away, the girl who loves you anyway.'I couldn__ even be mad at him, because this was who he was. This was who he__always been. He__ never lied about that. He gave and then he took away. I felt it in the pit of my stomach, the familiar ache, that lost, regretful feeling only he could give me. I never wanted to feel it again. Never, ever.Maybe this was why I came, so I could really know. So I could say good-bye.I looked at him, and I thought, 'If I was very brave or very honest, I would tell him.'I would say it, so he would know it and I would know it, and I could never take it back. But I wasn__ that brave or honest, so all I did was look at him. And I think he knew anyway.'I release you. I evict you from my heart. Because if I don't do it now, I never will.'I was the one to look away first.

Bring forth a spiritual idea that will never fade.

Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping that when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn't been gnawed to bones by the beasts below. Hoping you pull up anything at all.

Never be afraid to cry. Sometimes, nothing can cleanse the heart more than a few wet tears.

Hearts aren't handcuffs and people aren't prisons. When you feel it's time for you to leave, you leave. You neither need to wait to be released, nor ask for permission.

I hereby break all contracts I made unconsciously & consciously before I knew the depth of my own Spirit; the silent ones, the ones I inherited, passed down & accepted as my own from generation to generation.I hereby severe all ties with that which holds me down & back, unable to see the glimmer of what I know to be true, whether by my own creation or by expectations tied like weights around my ankles by others lost in the sea of their own confused hearts.I hereby reclaim my right to choose how my story unfolds, armed with creativity, a heart made of gold & reverent humility.I hereby fully accept all of this living & what-is-yet-to-come with brash integrity & loving determination.I hereby swear to use my superpowers for the love of all beings & I return anything that no longer serves my Higher & Lower Self (& the ones Caught-in-Between) with gratitude & consciousness.I do this all with love, from the great source of it found in my very own beating heart.

I'm floating. The absence of pain is powerful.

You release the pain of the past and press on. It's a new day, and God is doing a new thing. He wants to take you to a new place, to transform you into a new person.

Fill your heart with love. Forgive and let go. Not necessarily because those who mistreated you deserve it, but because you do. Let forgiveness liberate you from your past. Allow it to take away all the resentment you__e kept in your heart for all this time and allow it to fill in that empty space with love. Forgive, release and let go.

He sank back into his black-and-white world, his immobile world of inanimate drawings that had been granted the secret of motion, his death-world with its hidden gift of life. But that life was a deeply ambiguous life, a conjurer's trick, a crafty illusion based on an accidental property of the retina, which retained an image for a fraction of a second after the image was no longer present. On this frail fact was erected the entire structure of the cinema, that colossal confidence game. The animated cartoon was a far more honest expression of the cinematic illusion than the so-called realistic film, because the cartoon reveled in its own illusory nature, exulted in the impossible--indeed it claimed the impossible as its own, exalted it as its own highest end, found in impossibility, in the negation of the actual, its profoundest reason for being. The animated cartoon was nothing but the poetry of the impossible--therein lay its exhilaration and its secret melancholy. For this willful violation of the actual, while it was an intoxicating release from the constriction of things, was at the same time nothing but a delusion, an attempt to outwit mortality. As such it was doomed to failure. And yet it was desperately important to smash through the constriction of the actual, to unhinge the universe and let the impossible stream in, because otherwise--well, otherwise the world was nothing but an editorial cartoon.

Our goal in life is to carry with us the wisdom of experience, yet treat each new day as its own unique reality, rather than comparing what currently is to what has been in the past. When we compare, we plant expectations that then become self-fulfilling prophesies through the Law of Attraction.

The moment we accept our pain is the moment we release our suffering. Suffering is created when we offer life resistance, and what we resist most are the experiences that bring us pain.

Pity moment, blah! Let__ turn it around! We do not even need to go into the story of it. We acknowledge this moment and release it. We love and accept and forgive ourselves. And we acknowledge that this is a tiny stitch, a brief pinprick in the needlepoints we are creating of our lives. And we also acknowledge that this lifetime of ours is but a tiny little stitch in the ever-expanding, infinite needlepoint of the Universe. Self-pity is not a reason good enough for us to be out of alignment with peace.

Crying is good for the soul. It means something needs to be released. And if you don't release the something, it just weighs you down until you can hardly move.

In one way or another, every mission that I have ever set out on to rescue myself is yet another mission that I end up needing to be rescued from. Hence, there is God.