Moments upon moments have drifted onto our pages, forming an inside community whose inhabitants use our feelings to move around the meanings of our words and even though some of our terms are thought to be bright, not all of their energy prevents storms from bumping us into the shadows.
Sometimes hope hurts because dragons lean close to whisper about all the past ones that didn’t go as planned and how we are still grieving those times.
Sometimes hope hurts because we are confident about yesterday’s stumbles and unsure of the possibilities in an unknown tomorrow.
Sometimes hope hurts because desires are things that we make up as we go along but expectations lack the nourishment that imagination needs in order to make those seeds grow.
Sometimes hope hurts because whether it goes as we wish or not, we still won’t have figured out how to be easy with ourselves.
Sometimes hope hurts because there’s something about giving our all and not being sure that our all prepares us enough if dreams were to show up.
Sometimes hope hurts because we want change, but the weather of our emotions and thoughts sees value in our playing it safe regardless of how clear the path ahead may be.
Sometimes hope hurts because there are so many ways to be lost in the noise of the crowd that it’s hard to recognize that even weeds in a garden line the way for wishes.
Sometimes hope hurts because in wanting different today, there’s a vulnerability in acknowledging that we probably still haven’t forgiven ourselves for being in the same spot in another location on a separate day.
Sometimes hope hurts because we aren’t just reading our stories, we are also writing them and up until this very moment, our artistry seems to have snuffed out the light and muddied the colors.
Sometimes hope hurts because while it’s filled with the beauty of optimism, its impermanence means that it has to keep being redefined as life does its life-ing thing and our communities hold even longer lists.
This is me and even though hope looks the same when we talk about it, the energy of the inside community plans whether tears fall because sometimes hope hurts or that there will be drops of moisture nourished by a laughter that is as warm and bright as the sun.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
There are many days when we lean more towards a certain way of feeling and thinking for reasons that take up more space than any other possibilities that could also show up to clasp our hand.
And in going the distance that we do with what bumps us into the darkness, silence about the weariness of our journeys becomes a form of survival when in the presence of those who don’t seem to live with noises as loud as we do.
Because trying to make sense of the chaos by hanging on to what others have come to know in their lives leaves us unable to know how we could possibly hold ourselves safely in what actually exists while also wishing for just one more moment of noiselessness.
We have, after all, felt the destruction and painstakingly labeled ourselves with what was left on the inside, including the energy of each fallen tear from unwanted things.
But even though we have proven to have a proficiency for doing it with the shadows that moved in and never left, it hasn’t meant that there is something wrong, only that we haven’t learned to trust that we have been facing it all with a durability that is our own.
Long ago, my strength was hanging from a tree and having the scrapes to prove that it had been done.
Later on, some type of messy resilience appeared as fear screamed as hard as it could on the inside at the challenges that were before me on the outside.
After that, my toughness was trying not to spill onto anyone other than myself the level of anger that I felt but of course that never truly worked.
Then that power showed up as I stood alone as grief brutally enfolded me from a loss that others didn’t understand and even though I wanted them to feel me, they never could in a manner that would lighten the load that had become mine to have and to hold.
Force, then propped me up because while life went on around me, I was leaning heavily into the torn pieces of my home that were too big to be fixed with hugs and the kind of band-aids that skinned knees can be.
But now I have a friend that knew me when trees were an easy display of strength and over the years of being sculpted by debris and dragons, and not once has it cared how I looked while doing any of it, only that I would eventually realize that it was all being done with a durability that is mine alone to define.
This is me and I am slowly meeting the blooming meanings behind every one of my words and the scariest as well as the brightest part is that my artistry is unlike any other despite any similarities and that is how I am learning to build the term safety within my own home.
It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed by the community that has been planted underneath the surface, but we are strong enough to decide where what exists in the soil of what happened and what didn’t, grows from here.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
We are each in the company of words that have been turned inside out by details that often don’t agree with the evaluations of life as others have perceived it, and that difference makes understanding how to survive our own weather appear to only be a dream.
So instead of developing better relationships with our things, doubt and fear lead us to find the way out by abandoning ourselves in order to try and fit in with that which has been created in gardens elsewhere.
But we are the ones who give meaning to every single thing that lives in our stories, so despite our attempts to hide what’s there, the synchronicities of our thoughts and feelings never moves away from focusing on the obstacles and the pain.
And although not every thought is really worth our taking the time to think about it, on paths littered with the graffiti of our debris and dragons that demand conversations about the terms of our line of thinking, sorrow is what we have come to know intimately.
That grief then takes up so much space that the proof of the past leans in to become the foundations of tomorrow’s lighting and our hearts have all of the emotions that it needs to support its actions.
So, we hold the hope that someday we will be able to let go, and yet the purpose of our minds is to exude the perception of our travels and telling them not to think about those things only makes them want to focus harder on them.
The challenge, then, is to be amongst the memories and the feels that are attached to us while finding a way to be detached from them so that their roles are merely ingredients enfolded along the process of creating works of art that are sometimes very messy.
Within the darkness of what can’t be undone, are other details to be noticed that allow us to breathe a little easier, and even if it’s only a splash of color that has been left behind, we can focus on that.
On this day, just because our grief is unalike others, it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t honor what has been built within us because, after all, being happy happens when we take care of who we are in all of the places that we are.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
The energy of the words that haven’t skipped a beat in influencing our experiences and what our thoughts have had to say can be traced back to the multitude of sayings that have been all around for years.
And scattered within those traveling dances of existence, we have periodically stopped to plant seeds of hope for change, only to see them start but then come to an end, adding more tears to the ideas that a lack of transformation means something is wrong with us.
Change, though, while a logical need, just happens to be an unknown dragon or unseen threat when it comes to the devotion of the march that has been dis-harmonizing our pieces and as such, returning to our familiar shuffles is simply a natural habit of ours albeit an unhappy one.
What would happen if we acknowledged that consistently walking in circles has more to do with our vague concept of what revision is for us as individuals than it has to do with our missing what it takes to be able to adapt?
What if then, that collaboration is one of those old lores that needs adjustment because instead of it supporting us, it has been feeding the hell of the belief that stumbles prevent remarkable things from simultaneously being true?
What if we told the noise that is always ready to go that while there is darkness in yesterday’s spaces and a possibility of it in the weather of the tomorrows, there is also varying degrees of light dispersed in there as well?
What if we lean in as observers who are curious about digging through the hideout of the items that we feel lost in the emotions of but pretend aren’t there?
What if we shape shifted the things that have reached our homes to expand our understanding of what they mean instead of contorting ourselves to tuck that suffering onto pages, muddying the realness of our personal artistry?
What if the patches that are painful aren’t adequate for us, but that we are sufficient enough to hold the perspective that flexibility is always needed in managing our facts as well as the doubt that comes from having to sort out how to be able to do so?
In the last place we looked at ourselves, we didn’t dare question the discord of the lores that have influenced our thoughts but today and tomorrow are wide open for who we would be if our backstories allowed us to be the sometime warriors that are both sad AND happy as well as scared.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
There are sayings in our minds that have been proficiently placed throughout the pages of our stories and yet in the face of suffering, we will question who we are rather than the ask why those old constants are still being used to navigate our journeys.
Not knowing if or when we will smile again or how we will write in color when things feel black and white shouldn’t continue to paint the same picture simply because we have no idea how to do it any other way.
That familiar know-how, though, was never meant to become a permanent part of how we support ourselves just because the opportunity to hold hands repeats and although those beliefs have served a past purpose, that habit of loyalty doesn’t work with today’s pressures.
So, we are in need of the kind of word of mouth that can connect the distance between the many tears of our grief and the fewer ones that come from the laughter that makes our stomachs hurt.
Something that takes us away from staring in the mirror while asking ourselves “What if this or I had been different?” and moves us to inquire “What now?” because we have finally accepted that there are moments that are truthfully unalike what we had hoped for.
Something that allows us to add the simple word AND to the end of every limiting sentence that is whispered inside us because we are beginning to understand that we are both the dark AND the light as well as capable of being sad AND a little happy at the same time.
Something that encourages us to walk into the spaces of the unknowns of the tomorrows without the need to control our fear by reacting in familiar ways because while the past was a constant observer of the missteps, our future artistry embraces and values the load of all of us.
We have always been together with the knowledge that we have held because our belief has been that that was all that our skills could ever build, but happiness is what happens when we add AND to the parts that we have lacked the security to be more in.
In familiar sayings, we are enclosed by the suffering that doesn’t give us a chance but, in another lore, we are open to being both right where we are AND to smiling because when it comes to sometime warriors, no act will ever be a little thing in navigating the journey of learning to love ourselves.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
We walk through our storybooks, creating as we go, but when it comes to the puddles that contain the drops of life-long weather, we automatically anticipate that the experiences of each new page will inevitably feel just as yesterday’s shows did.
But then there is a sense of safety in wielding that intimate strategy of our own homes against the unknown lurking along journeys that lead us to who knows where even though that particular kind of emotional availability doesn’t really fit with our hopes for the tomorrows.
Thoughts can be changed, but emotions are the connections to our stories that we would otherwise just be attached to like mud on the bottom of a shoe and our hearts have been conditioned to find the same feels regardless of what we think.
And so those repetitive feelings become the decision makers that supply commentary on every moment preventing the growth of what would give us somewhere to go with the piles of emotions that are always loud but not necessarily clear.
And without fail, those standing waters of our forever-after(s), trap us in the drought of what we have concluded and often that is the belief that what has been lived will continue to be even though nothing can ever actually be felt in an identical way again.
After all, doing it badly once was not the same in the next spot that we also hated just as what felt so good over there was never quite like what made us smile before, but our habit of critiquing muddies their individual differences.
So, we naturally lean in to weep with what we grieve as a trustworthy awareness of ourselves because sorrow has been a lasting experience in real time and assumed times, but it has also taken strength to carry the weight of heavy weather that has appeared to only want us to balance pain.
Empathy means to have sympathy for experiences and emotions which is what we are attempting to do when we fully engage with what’s in us, but we get in our own way when we think feelings are the kind of ground to remain in rather than simply being an informational system to learn from.
Instead of just living in the same old puddles, I am avoiding further weight gain by allowing what brings me down to speak while knowing that its commentary is just a part of my pain and not the manager that may contain me wherever I am in my story.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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