Breaking the Glass: a poem for expansion

when she was young, she was given a gift.

a pristine, flawless crystal Tiffany house.

in The Blue Box, with a small voice that said…

this will be your life.


it was completely transparent. 

she could see all the way through it. 

and in just the right light, 

she could see her reflection.


truth, wonder, freedom, joy, pure Love


as time passed, she forgot about the house. she set it aside. compartmentalized.

didn’t preserve it, nurture it, clean it.

it sat on the same shelf, in the same room, with the same view

day after day.


one day, she can’t even remember which day,

only that she was tired…she fell asleep.

when she opened her eyes, she was inside the house. at first she was excited to have this exquisite exterior to shield her from the elements of life. she was herself, but living on the inside. safe. there, but...guarded.

it still looked perfect from the outside. still clear, no one could tell. kept up enough. clean enough. protected.  still sparkling in the right light.

she kept going through the motions of her life as she knew it. doing it all right. saying all the right things. being in the right places. doing it all how it should be done.

but it was quiet. the house was getting smaller, the walls coming closer. contracting.


she was going numb.


she did all the things she knew to bring life back into her body. and they would work sometimes.  she would see the people and they would laugh and talk and cry and they would be close and she wondered why she couldn’t feel it. through the glass.

wine with friends. wine by herself. lots of exercise. lots of food. lots of sex. lots of work. not enough food. no exercise. no wine. no sex. more work.

she was disconnected from herself. and her life. no one could hear her small voice. neither could she. 

she wondered what happened. when it happened.

how it happened.

how did she let it happen.

why did she let it happen.

no one noticed. everything looked the same.

everything. looked. the same.


but no one could feel it. her.


and this one moment. searching. in the stillness of her chaotic search to find a crack, an opening, a vent, something to let her feel the fresh air, feel what freedom is again, to feel her skin again to


she wanted to create. to live. to express.

she wanted. she Desired.

a long...deep inhale...

eyes wide open...

she heard a larger, powerful voice, something swept across her face.


"Why Don’t You Wake Up?"


but her eyes were open.


she was awake. (or was she?)

she saw flashes of bright green, of nature, of water, of smiles, of laughter, of ecstasy, of power, of passion, of success, of connection, of brilliance, of light, of light, of…

her Self.

in the reflection. in just the right light.

but she was terrified the glass would break. she would ruin the perfection. the illusion. the thoughts. and more thoughts. and a corner of her mouth started to rise...

a sudden burst of Truth and Radiance from her center.

she opened her mouth. wide. closed her eyes. she used her True voice.

she spoke what SHE wanted. loud. Her Desires. she Believed. she Acted.

the glass shattered. the illusion. shattered. the dream shattered.

everything she thought she knew was destroyed, and in the wake of the destruction

she rose.




and she could See, clearly. and Feel, wholly. and Feel, it all.

the voice:

This…Is…Your Life. This is the Reality.
You Are Home.
You…are everything you are looking for.


and she stretched out her hand to touch her people

and she Felt it. and they Felt her. and there ... was Love.