We hum the story that having hope is a glimpse into individuals that are pending within the flash of a better life where being worthy of receiving appreciation can be found.
A brief summary of what could be without consideration for the conditions that both hope and future versions require in making it to finally believing in who we are.
No mention of the weather in being stuck in saving up moments filled with grief and empty smiles that will continue to mark our pages.
No indication of how many of our days, or even years, will turn hope into fairytales that can’t hold us together.
No hint on how feeling lost will overwhelmingly deepen for periods of time even though hope seemed like it would cut through that fog like the beam of a lighthouse.
No insight into how to cope with the fear that isn’t showing up because of tomorrow’s unknown but is rooted in yesterday’s survival.
And no exchange on how we are indeed silently doubting the doubt by hoping amongst the identities that speak of not being enough.
See, when we dream, we look forward to the proof found at the end but not the spaces that lead up to it.
So, we await relief, anticipate confidence, expect happiness and are keen on being able to stack moments with tears that know our laughter better than our hurt.
But as we step towards some hope, conditions pile up and our running understanding of doubt doesn’t miss a beat in using every single moment to color us with hopelessness.
And that’s because we have never been comfortable in spots where we have to find appreciation for ourselves and even with a glimpse of future versions, we still can’t.
See, when we doubt, we distrust ourselves but when we hope, we are supposed to be skeptical of the thoughts and feelings that would have us doubting ourselves.
One of these days, we will lighten the conditions along our journeys to hope by being determined to appreciate ourselves within the walls of our homes without our pending selves being seen or perfectly in place.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Doubt isn’t simply a word with the ability to deflate hopes but one that operates by sitting us down to a parade of moments while projecting past feels into the wishes that we are trying to connect to.
Its pointy fingers are compromised of the things that didn’t work out and the fear of the unknown that we have come to believe in more than we do in ourselves.
As if it’s bonded to us and destined to slowly deplete the enthusiasm before it has even had the chance to soften tomorrow’s pages, the spaces where different is still supposed to be available to us.
But what if we were to use that word against itself, to doubt what that embellishing means even though it appears to know what it is doing in presenting items from both our minds and hearts?
Not to excuse those recited moments but to understand that picking up what we thought we saw in having to survive was never synonymous with the absence of strength until we held ourselves in limbo in that place?
That idea might not feel right within the context of dragon voices that seemingly hate on us, but the truth is that it doesn’t matter whether we win or lose, only how generosity impacts our gardens that are often caught between debris and weather.
And to be generous with our unsteady selves means to open up the burden of the sinking words that we swear are our story to question if processions of moments really shouldn’t be displayed in the neglected sections of our flashes of strength.
We are better than the set status of deflated hope and happiness that requires us to do so
if our decorating includes doubt, we owe it to ourselves to recycle that term to pick for our storms to also be what waters our flowers.
Have the best day possible for you. Love Always, Heavell
We will say that to craft the life that we want, we must let go of the yesterdays and yet we have never been the type to be able to leave behind the energy that has found a home within us.
Not the moments themselves but their punches that force us to our knees in an ever-shifting loneliness that others do not understand.
And their echoes that pile the art of our debris on top of us so that all that we can do is roll around in it.
Leaving us to wonder why the layers flooding our pages are taking us out while also continuing to write them in the very manner that has become so exhausting for us.
Because we were not just in those spots but instead came out enduring their weight and neither time nor wishes has lessened the heaviness that remains today.
What is the use of trying, then, if it’s hard to stay away from past weather and the wording of our hopes continues to be soaked by storms?
Here’s the thing, walking in shadows didn’t happen all at once and expanding our steps into the light won’t either, especially as that includes adjusting the right of way of past narratives.
So, sometimes we do have to go back for the parts of us that were left in despair in half-stories along our journeys.
Not for the moments themselves but to show those travelers that a lot has been asked of that they are worthy of being comforted because we are, not because we do.
Not to interact with the dragons but for the sadness that has lost hope in the pause of us becoming who we wish we had in old things.
And to truly view what we have spent so much time not seeing straight because even tiredness has pockets of potential and strength despite not looking good in the mirror.
Where there is a moment, there is a memory with energy that really wants to be at home within us.
Where there is a memory, there is either a hope that it stays or one for it to go away.
Where there is a hope, there is always a light and that luminosity is the comfort that we offer to the selves that are still shut down from the moments of our suffering.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Recent Comments