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A post shared by Jenny Ní Ruiséil (@jennybean108) on Jun 17, 2019 at 6:49am PDT

Listen, starchild.

No one ever said the world was supposed to be easy.

But this place is full of magic, too.

There are waves and sunsets timelessly repeating themselves, their reliable cycles a base, a rotating stage for this untameable dance to take place. There are flowers in all shapes, sizes, and colours, in all corners of the globe—standing guard majestically on kitchen tables, wildly untamed along stumbling streams, decorating the wilderness with their softness.

There are embraces, warm and soothing, making this path a little less lonely, your heart more open to continue creating and loving.

There is music—oh! The music you’ll hear! Vibrations and sounds in harmony and rhythms that take you and make you sway and move until you drop!

Each breath you take is a birth, each morsel of earth-grown goodness an intimate exchange with the planet—your cells recreating themselves with every bite and every moment spent in glorious sleep.

Why were we born?

Because these lifetimes are continuous cycles of creation and discovery. There are places, people, cultures, foods, and languages you can’t even imagine just waiting for you to explore; timeless depths of oceans and mountaintops of powdered snow, penetrating in their silence and expanse—it will feel almost as if you’ve come right back out and become one with the sky above.

There are people you’ll meet, who will make you remember the incredible beauty and luminosity of your own being—so deep the connection, it might well frighten you from your own skin. When this happens, starchild, though it might seem hard, sometimes you must do yourself a favour and learn to let them go, too.

For nothing in this place lasts forever, and the unfaltering pace means that learning to love each twist and turn without getting caught in hindsight is the only way to see it through. As each moment lives and dies, as you open, accept, and release them, each breath in becomes a birth—an easeful, graceful dance to weave through, each exhale a death—a softening return to the winter of all things, the silence between notes, the pause between words.

So when you ask of the stars why this life has led you where you are now, has shoved all of the pain you’ve endured on your shoulders, just remember all of the breaths that have already come and gone; the hands that you’ve shaken and the hands you’ve held; the gazes exchanged, ideas put into words, words to art, and art into descriptionless yet deeply rooted emotion—the energy in motion that keeps you upright.

Why were we born? On this earth? At this time?

Because this spectacular mess is an ongoing birth—there’s pain, yes, but there is joy in it, too. An ever-moving, evolving exchange between newness and decay, and here we all are, dancing along to some unspoken beat.

And guess what?

You get to be a part of it.