Coming out of the funk

It is clear, especially from my last post, that I am emerging from my funk. Sweet.

But in reality, these funks are mini-metamorphoses for me--a way to slough off the dead layers and get to the life of me, the prime, the purity in my form.

Once I am in the wake of a funk, I see more clearly, I listen more clearly and I am more aware of myself and my actions. I love deeper and I think deeper. I am both more inside of and outside of myself--my consciousness is raised.

Perhaps they are necessary, like a wave that must crash on the sandy beach in order to pull back into the shimmering abyss of the ocean home--pulled back to it's roots.

I rise as if the crest of the wave and in this rising I am inspired and powerful and unstoppable. Then I crash--hard. And then some unseen force pulls me back to my self. I just wish I had more grace as I rise and fall and lived less like a storm.

But here I am...calm waters. Peace.