Caves are my safe place.

That’s what I tell myself.

Hidden and out of view. No one to interrupt me. No one to judge me. No one for me to judge. No obligations. No call of duty.

I can sleep there and no one will notice me. I can stay locked away forever while life passes me by.

The perfect escape…

Yes, a blissful ignorance that soothes me and seduces me into deeper slumber.

But then I awaken in the darkness - in that place that offered safety and forgetfulness - only to realise that I was deceived (yet again). For there are so many things that can never be found in my cave.

Caves hold no true light, no warmth. Caves offer no pathway through. They are only a dead-end. They offer a temporary respite, but they do not provide the sustenance of life.

My cave is but a shadow of the real.

Real is raw and uncomfortable. Real carries with it pain and confusion, anger and fear.

But Real also carries joy within it’s mystery, which only the brave will find.

Real pulls me out of my cave and into the unknown.

It pushes me into something more fulfilling, more satisfying, and far more beautiful than staying hidden away in the empty, vacant nothingness of the shadow.

Real teaches me strength. It provides opportunities to love. It whispers purpose to my heart and injects understanding into my veins.

The invitation of Real moves me from reluctant to relevant because I chose to wake up and walk out.

Thoughts to consider:

* Do you have a cave you retreat to that isn’t truly life-giving?

* Where have you shown up into the Real and had a surprising joyful outcome?