30 Days of Gratitude: Reflection

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Juxtapose feelings are often evoked when I look at this picture. The beauty and tradition of the dancheong-style roof paired with the pain and agonizing disposition of my heart yearning for more are so representative of the pull I've often felt between the future and the past. 

In April 2013, I made the decision to flee from the chitter-chatter of Seoul to find the quietness of my Soul. I retreated to the countryside of Chungju, South Korea to find the solace that my heart longed for. Precisely three years later, my Soul has returned to the same stillness found on my rogue runaway trip to the countryside. This time, I'm remembering that the peace I've been seeking can be found in any busy city, in the midst of hurt, and in spite of financial lack. Gratitude aided in my deeper understanding of this.

Coming into understanding of this halted me and redirected me to a place of the peace, to a place of presence. Before I could move forward in this experiment, I realized that the only way for me to move forward and out of my own anxiety (focusing on the future) and depression (focusing on the past) is to look up and see the colorful rooftop right above my head. At about day 23 or 24, I realized that doing the work doesn't always mean that I have to DO. I had this seemingly-obvious, yet world-changing epiphany that doing the work sometimes means that I have BE. I have to BE broken, before I can BE healed. I don't want to just do healing or create healing, I want to BE healing. Live it, breathe it, be it.

"I am a human being, not a human doing. Don't equate your self-worth with how well you do things in life. You aren't what you do. If you are what you do, then when you don't... you aren't." Dr. Wayne Dyer

Before I move one more step forward or create one more manifestation, I celebrate me, right where I am. In my joy, in my pain. In my personal abundance, in my financial debt. In my progression, in my regression. I celebrate the juxtaposition of my life. Because it's mine. All mine.

Danielle Lyles Barton