I’m standing in front of a wall,

A menacing impenetrable barricade.

A small voice urges me forward

But for weeks I’ve been stuck, eyes hard, face taught,

Rooted to earth by fear, doubt and recalcitrance,

Paralysed by this towering shadow.

I’ve faced many walls in the past

And clambered over, or powered through,

But when I look to my trusty tools this time,

They are of no use.

I’m being asked to let go of my patterns

And bring a whole different way of being to life.

The small voice and binding roots belong to a teen,

Upended by undiagnosed head trauma,

Spine and skull ravaged by pain and inflammation,

Confusion and frustration rippling through her veins.

She’s hidden away inside my solar plexus,

Her shame spooling up to the lump in my throat.

As I recognise her fears and thoughts are leading,

I hum Grace in and feel a softening, a tenderness.

Together we stroke the child’s furrowed brow,

Tickle her feet and lead her through the wide expanse of Being,

Where breath meets body and deeper still,

Until we’re standing in front of the wall.

Here, with Grace holding steady and true,

We see the barrier is but a gateway,

Awaiting a shift in perspective, an embracing of wholeness,

A surrender to the will of Grace to hold sway in all things,

To dissolve the illusion of separateness,

And welcome us home to play in the fields of divinity.