Today I feel thin. Not the “woo-hoo I lost 10 pounds and now I fit into my jeans from high-school!” thin, but thin like paper. Paper that has been crumpled, thrown away, rescued, and layed out flat again. Paper that has been worn thin and stretched.

Stretched by choices made, games that I’ve played. Little hands pulling and bending. Making me into a princess, then a dragon, then a horse to ride on and carry their weight.

Big hands folding and molding. Pushing me towards something else. Something they feel I should be, something other than me. Stretched by the pressure and weight of expectations, needs and wants. The idea that I am all that there is, or could be, and I must be more.

Made thin by my own constant desire to expand beyond my limits, to reach out, grasping at air. For really, there is nothing there. An illusion made from projections of separateness.

If you look at me closely, you can almost see through me. Faint lines of definition blending into the shapes and shadows of my own imagination. I am invisible, a shape shifter. Master of disguise…until you look into my eyes, and see my soul. At least I think that is still whole. Tucked into a corner of comfort, watching my unfolding.

With my unfolding  a new awareness begins. A feeling of lightness begins to come in. I am lifted, floating, free. I am thin, but I am light. I am love. I am still me.

I am carried on the gentle breeze of soft kisses blown by my children. Taken on the wind of my families strength. Twisting and turning, dancing to the song of joy and pain that is played by my heart. I realize it is ok to take part. To let go and be light. Release the weight of it all that presses down, holding me still to the ground.

My thinness allows me to drift along like a soft melody sung by a cloud. I do not know where I will land, but this is the beauty of being stretched thin I have found. ❤