Unravelling the past: Barbed wire and campfire learnings

How does one truly unravel their past, stripping the barbs of hurt to create a new vessel free from thorns? For me, it took years of journey, searching for my ideal personal paradise even without a definition of what that could be. When a sense of peacefulness arrived in spurting moments, I did not have the skills to retain it in my life, and mourned each time it slipped away. Always I continued my nomadic travel across this land, through its desert heart of richness, the red sand sweeping my footprints away with its wind of wisdom, only my most recent footprints remaining to be seen. Each time I chose to return to the losses of my past, I had to endure a cyclic reoccurrence of the pain. It has taken me years to lessen those cycles. It has taken years of practice, working on my as‑yet‑unseen footprints, centring toward my future.

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