When I committed myself 
to creativity, 
I secretly hoped
it was going 
to heal me. 

And it did, 
but not in the way 
I thought. 

It started 
with an intention: 

To become 
an open channel 
for creativity.

I would ask myself
each morning,
“what does the universe 
want to create 
through me 
today?” 

… and then surrendered 
to whatever came next. 

I overcame fears 
and pushed edges—
and it also brought me 
to deeper ones.

I let myself be seen—
and also hid in new
less obvious ways.

I had experiences 
of profound connectedness—
and also felt farther away 
from grace than ever.

I became so sensitive 
to subtle changes 
in light
in expression 
in texture
in sound 
in the flow of energy 
in the body
and in nature.

Images
words
feelings
poems in their entirety 
would all emerge 
from the darkness 
and ask 
to be made 
into form. 

I sensed the earth
in my bones
and the ocean 
in my hands
the wind whispered
when and which paths to take
and the sun 
seeped into me
and made a home 
in my chest. 

I became distinctly aware
of the genius in everyone, 
blinding and obvious—
their love and innocence 
shone through 
their every breath.

And despite all of this,
just below the surface
I wondered—
what if there really 
isn’t space for me
in this world?

In the void,
I still breathe
I still feel
I still wonder—
and something still
pulls me deeper.

Its like some part of me 
thought if I could just 
fix everything about myself—
if I could figure out 
how to do life “right”—
I would finally feel
worthy and valuable—
that I would give myself
permission to exist.

But what if 
I’ve been asking myself
the wrong questions?

Because maybe
there isn’t space
in the world
for me
at all—
at least,
no space 
for ideas of 
what I am
or what I am not.

For what happens
if we give ourselves 
completely over
to whatever this is?

What happens 
if we let our 
limiting beliefs die?

What happens 
if we become
fully alive?

I am open
and opening.

I let go 
of every desire
every attachment
aversion
and resistance
every idea of how
things are supposed 
to be…

Until life,
I’m yours.

Show me what’s real.

Show me truth.

Move through me 
and make me new.

For beyond myself
there is something else
entirely—
something constant
something powerful
something simple
gentle
unshakeable 
and achingly
devastatingly
beautiful.

And that?

That is worth
asking questions about.​​

--​

"What Happens if We Become Fully Alive?"
by Emilia Rauckytė
© 2022 Divine and Human