When the call comes for more
For stepping into who you were always meant to be
It doesn't usually arrive as a sparkly party invitation
Often the call for liberation is more like a silent stalker
A sense of being followed by something dark and disquieting that simply won't go away
A low level feeling of dread that crawls into bed with you at 3 AM
That sends your nervous system into spasm
And your mind into narrow spirals of incoherent panic
Its the visit from the unknown
That leaves you in a fog of confusion
Teetering off balance
And wandering aimlessly through seemingly outwardly purposeful days
A part of you knows that something has ended
That you're going through the motions of a life that is no longer yours
That dread is really grief
A keening cry for the old days and the old you
The one that you know so well
The one whose scent and shape has housed all you have ever recognized as home
You love this one
You don't want her to go
To be no more
You cry out "Not now!
"Can't we put this off for just a tiny bit longer?"
"It's too soon"
"I'm JUST NOT READY!!"
But the pact has been made
The contract signed
The deal already done
Your soul has decided
It is time to move on
To step into a much larger world
A more authentic life
And left what was once so familiar lying on the floor like a translucent snake skin
Already shriveling in the heat and light of the brightly shining noonday sun.