Be soft, feeling your way through be open, ready to receive the new be bold, and honest about what’s right for you Be loving, and you’ll feel that love too.
LUCY MARY BALLBe soft, feeling your way through be open, ready to receive the new be bold, and honest about what’s right for you Be loving, and you’ll feel that love too.
LUCY MARY BALLIts natural to feel fear and pain, when you’re healing old wounds to come home again.
LUCY MARY BALLIt hits me like a train, a hurricane of pain, the type that leaves one breathless whilst imprinting a deep stain; but then by some miracle it slowly fades away again, and I find myself back, forever changed.
LUCY MARY BALLHealing isn’t about changing who you are, for its a coming of home from which you’ve wandered far.
LUCY MARY BALLYour heart has always known; the work is to shovel enough mind rubble to hear it speak.
LUCY MARY BALLIn this moment I am me, as much as I’m ever going to be; I’m not a memory that can no longer be seen, for I am the seer that always has been.
LUCY MARY BALLI’ve always been right here buried under the rubble of fear; I simply forgot how near I’ve always been to the heart that holds love dear.
LUCY MARY BALLHer emotions no longer scared her, and she was declared free.
LUCY MARY BALLThe waves of life arrive in rhythms, the tide goes in and out the moon shines in prisms; see its natural to feel the ups and downs for you’re life itself hidden or found.
LUCY MARY BALLThe most painful times reap the deepest transformations.
LUCY MARY BALLShe’s afraid of losing love, not realizing she’s the universe.
LUCY MARY BALLShe felt uninspired dull and unfired, she craved newness to be clueless; something wild.
LUCY MARY BALLHer dreams were akin to the vastness within.
LUCY MARY BALLSometimes she pleaded with life, only to find out that she was begging for her very essence; for she is life itself.
LUCY MARY BALLIt took her years to release the scars that covered her heart, and the final puzzle piece was realizing she’d been love from the start.
LUCY MARY BALLShe nursed her wounds, softly holding space, breathing love into pain, until it turned into grace.
LUCY MARY BALL