We don’t naturally greet our pain with courage because it is far more normal for the emotional cost of unpleasant things to have us feeling overwhelmed and defeated then it has ever been for us to perceive of the bravery in being kind while suffering.
Feelings don’t use words, though, to voice themselves and they certainly don’t remind us that we don’t come from any of the events in our lives but that we materialize through our collaborations with them.
In essence, we experience our moments and the emotions that are formed under pressure in those places and then they repeatedly return with their disproportionate messages that diminish our ability to hear and to think outside of them.
We try to make sense of it by reflecting on how different choices should have been made but that concept is also a part of pain’s pattern that causes us to fall and before we know it, we are left with the view of what we believe to be our unworthiness.
The gap between the hope of our desires and what has actually happened holds what has been fit into our hearts and while our minds want to find the names for what’s there, the feels never really change because they are noises that designations can’t provide relief from.
So we meet again and again the normalcy of yesterday’s suffering and the fear that tomorrow’s emotions will have exactly the same cost and they will until we recognize that greeting pain in a repetitive manner denotes a certain kind of strength that we have never before taken notice of.
After all, it hasn’t been a popular movement within ourselves to observe that the language of determination quietly displays itself in every single step after step that we make while continuing to walk with our particular shades of regret and grief along journeys that at times are very unwelcoming.
It will never just be about the flowers because as with all things, the significance of each is meant to expand and contract to be defined as we determine rather than for us to breathe in being explained by them.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
It’s hard to move forward from painful events if we don’t have some sort of proof that there is an agreement on what has occurred and without it, it feels like someone else is telling our story with words that leave out who we are and how we were impacted in those moments.
It seems as if those situations corrupt our pages, making it even more difficult to trust ourselves as we get lost in the distraction of needing our experiences to be validated even though our relations with those circumstances are what they are regardless of what is said or not said.
However what does make it possible for the still living sorrow of the yesterdays to create fleeting happiness in the tomorrows is the relationship that we have established with our own selves as the results of the influences of unwanted conditions in our gardens.
So what’s on the other side if the things that we grieve were to move from the dark response of denigration to the elevated space of being acknowledged as the collisions in our stories, whether anyone else agrees or not?
Would the inevitable dragons, storms and even the right lighting weigh us back down so that how we are in those new moments just becomes another confinement that we have now given to ourselves?
Or would we find that we are more believable and finally be willing to alter the alliances that we have maintained within our own homes?
Life is full of vessels of complicated emotions that exist in the simplest of things like our connections to flowers and their appearances aren’t controllable but changing their enfolding of us into our embracing of them is something that we are powerful enough to do.
It may feel like the materials of painful episodes leave us with few options other than to be pushed towards the dominant darkness but gravity has a value in all of its spaces and the pull between us and the objects of understanding that we need to explore a new relationship with ourselves are within reach as well.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
When the things that we have met personally have their meanings marked out by the perception of those who have unconnected life experiences, our own joy becomes uninhabitable and yet we will search through the words of others to find the answers for why ours is unsuitable.
Its like trying to match the view that we see of someone else while abandoning the inside of ourselves instead of recognizing that our sight and wants will change over time but the home that we reside in will remain as the place that we will always be.
Its like holding the proof of being sometime warriors but believing that the absence of those details in others reduces the value of our strength that has grown from being enfolded by the storms of grief and fear as well as dragons.
Its like not finding understanding for the unique needs of our own soil but then getting our gardening advice from a completely unalike environment even though we know different does not guarantee better.
Its like carrying the weight of our emotions but explaining to ourselves that they are the barriers to the happiness that we see around us so we must lose ourselves rather than embrace the pain.
It’s like embodying hope as a lifeline but not realizing that when we are so tired from the million falls on the trail to success, an unspoken detail of resilience is to rest even though others will tell us to keep going otherwise we are not functioning accurately in the system.
Its like believing that what others hand us are items that we are meant to hold in our spaces but then also feeling as if its too much to ask for them to be uncomfortable by packing ours into their rooms.
Its like following along with framing flowers within the imagery of certain acts or locations although layered on pages are the blooms that hold snippets of our lives that cannot be duplicated nor felt by anyone other than who they belong to.
Its like thinking that being a work of art in progress means fixing what’s on the inside when that phrase is about moving the coverings of the desert that established itself as we allowed others to clean out the very homes that they can never even enter.
The dirt that is used in individualistic gardens relies upon what we put into it to safely hold the seeds and plants and while there are times when the growth is slowed by the amount of debris that’s in that soil, we are never unable to experience happiness there, as long as we don’t confuse someone else’s fitting in for our own.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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