Loneliness is our grief breaking through from the marks of our moments where the lights of being heard and loved existed as hopes and dreams but not as our actual experiences of being at home within our own hearts.
Feeling homesick for those comforting embraces that we imagine prevail somewhere that we just haven’t found yet, creates separation within us but it’s not the kind that encourages the space that allows us to breathe within the content of our own authenticity.
That disconnect is like shifting our weight of the world from one hand to another and then back again as we walk the lines that we think we should or distract ourselves from what we carry by seeking shelter in the vibes and words of others.
Initially, there is a sense of relief from our burdens in those settings but eventually, any time it rains that pain propagates as the reminders that we are longing for our place of safety to rest our hurting hearts and tired minds.
We aren’t content with allowing the relationship that we have with ourselves but we are comfortable with thinking that we are disqualified from having the choice to get creative with our obstacles, especially those fire-breathing dragons, that feel so inseparable from us no matter how hard we try to let them go.
What is able to bleed through follows us because we are the only ones who can turn the light on in the darkness of their existence although our intent has been to surround them with the sound of silence so that they will go away without our having to blend their needs in with our desires for easy trails, sunny days and of course the flowers that we think prove we are all right.
What if the purpose of our mangled words, muddy colors and out-of-tune songs is not to make us feel like failures but are the very emotional cues that beauty and being home within ourselves are not truly defined by the blooms that eventually have to decay anyways but by us as the main characters in the narratives where we just happen to grieve and fall down more than we want to?
If you must let go of something, then let it be your idea of what the isolation, homesickness and hurt says about you as well as the belief that you have to be more than what is already within your reach from your encounters for you to be possible.
After all, flowers will always be within our view but the magical ones require us to dance a little more with expanding the space where our feels constrain us even when it seems easier to look elsewhere or to let someone else tell us how to paint our stories.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
When authors write their engaging tales, their words inspire us to imagine the possibilities, but when it comes to our own narratives, we are often strangers residing uncomfortably in the embrace of a bunch of colors that express the details of the long stories that we have been the main characters in.
Many of our pages don’t actually have things written on them that we need to let go of, but the ones where our feels unfold in limiting ways do because those vibes would have us believe that they belong in every space that we exist in merely because they came to life at some previous spot along our journeys.
The power of what has been lies in our hearts and minds working together to re-live the emotions of the experiences as well as the thoughts that replay the events.
Once we take hold of that kind of constraint within ourselves, every sheet that follows becomes messy as those particular hues move forward bleeding through from one day to the next influencing our belief in our potential for change despite a thing called hope.
It’s not that any of those moments can completely define who we are, even when repeated, but it is how we have been consistently enfolding those items into ourselves that has allowed them to keep breathing as if they are invincible dragons capable of controlling us well into the tomorrows.
As the very people who are feeling the void of safety and love in our accounts, we haven’t come this far to only remain at this exact point on the inside but we can’t proceed ahead to uncover what feels absent from us by continuing to write and walk in the same manner that buried what we are looking for to begin with.
To be possible is simply the idea that there is the potential for us to be successful at something but that proposal never changes it’s position in our hearts and minds until we start traveling towards what we are wishing for whether we ever get there or not.
The same concept applies to the overtones of the dragons that live from our marks, their voices and our vulnerability to them remain in the same tones until we are able to show up and truly hear as well as see ourselves.
The true nature of all imaginary and real-life stories is for every persona to learn how to be the content by flowing and adjusting with the expansions and narrowing of the trails in the time and at the speed that is meant for each of us as individuals.
Our potential is always present but sometimes we have to dance a little more with our no’s to locate the magic in our art that puts the yes into our steps.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Today is the current location of the magic of our art as we reside between the downward forces of yesterday’s stumbling practices and the hopeful progress of the tomorrows.
The past holds how we have done everything up until this very moment and what we feel we look like on those already turned pages creates the desire to separate ourselves from the unhappiness and what we believe to be the examples of our weaknesses on the next ones.
We are, after all, vulnerable in the messages of our old steps that didn’t match what our wishes held and certainly their lack of support for us is the reason why we would want to move our direction forward unaccompanied by their voices.
Carrying on without some of who we are, though, leaves us standing outside of ourselves existing in individual, breathing shelters made up of loneliness and painted smiles that own us far more than any of the marks from our prior days could ever do.
Being our authentic selves is a balancing act of the things that we consider to be worthy of our laughter, admiration, tears and heart-break along with the rest of the experiences that live in the midst of both of our light and dark moments.
Often our footing isn’t stable in at least some of our details while other areas remain completely steady so letting go of the connections that we have with ourselves whispers to our hearts that we are broken when really, the problem has always been how we have viewed the particular decay of our hurt within our gardens.
We can’t heal what we surround with the sound of silence and when we cloak parts with darkness to prevent those mixed emotions from holding us back, we are actually stopping ourselves from not only adding to our stories of love but also the very progression that we have been dreaming of.
There is courage in having made it to this exact spot just as there has been fear and there are genuine grins that have consistently appeared with the pain and if we wish to give ourselves a chance at change, we have to dance a little more with the idea that having a hard time going through has more to do with our uncomfortableness of being whole narratives then it does with a lack of sunlight or flowers that don’t show up as we had hoped they would.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Where there has been an up in our words, there has also been a down living within reach and that comfortable entanglement is the reason why the voices of the yesterdays are some of the same ones we hear and still express today.
Simply, there are sheets in our stories that have the word loneliness reflected in the same color as the term love because we have enfolded that particular emotion into what defines our fondness for ourselves by the way of all of our background examples.
Other entry days have our smiles colored just as the splashes of our humor are but that shiny pigment of happiness can also be the cover for our breathing, murky palette of tears that seek the safety of existing behind our joyful expressions.
And when we flip back through our collection of authentic-ness, the duality of using a single hue to represent what love looks like as well as expressing the intensity of our hurt has had us unknowingly abandoning the endearment that quietly subsists in the same moments as the inflaming ones that we are trying to let go of.
Change doesn’t want us to conceal our reactions to various parts of our lives nor to eliminate them from the known pages of our stories.
Hope also doesn’t desire for us to do that thing because the way in which we handle them today either helps us to solve or to continue to shift to another day, the storms that have already been as well as the ones that are waiting around the bend.
The magic of art is that it meets us where we are and how we connect to the whole often excludes the details that came together to create it’s overall appearance but when we scan the pages of our stories, we tend to focus on the individual marks that we don’t like while tucking our all-inclusive selves behind them.
Our moments will always include upward movement as well as engagements with the ground but how we negotiate our feels through those encounters reflects our understanding of why it is possible to write that we are unhappy in one scene and then to return to that thought of loneliness at a later date with our redefined color of love to say that it is all right because I am with you now.
Happiness doesn’t exist because of an absence of what hurts but it does when we untangle the ways in which we have been preventing ourselves from connecting to all that we are.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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