Where Its Supposed To Be #343

Where Its Supposed To Be #343

Wherever we go, the darkness strikes us as being able to seamlessly follow and yet we are also use to bending backwards in order to locate it even though we don’t shift that much of ourselves for the things that feel good.

And on the days where we are under the weight of simply surviving, we try our best but exchanging that gloom for the better lighting of less negativity isn’t a response that we are able to find despite our needing it.

And our tomorrows become a repeat of the yesterdays simply because the consequence of not being able to hold ourselves in all the ways that we actually live life is that the same obstacles continue to speak within us.

Those one-sided conversations do feel so valid as they envelop us within the certainty of parts of the truth and of course we are silent on how possibilities are in every kind of step in the slow movement towards discovering what does work.

That adversity makes everything in reference to ourselves feel like a challenge while the subtlety of what we smile about implies that the ease in which we are able to exist in likeable conditions should be useable to navigate our pain with but it is not.

It is no wonder, then, that we feel tired of the fight with darkness’s ability to touch us but if we can believe in and be distracted by it’s cluttered messages, then why can’t we hear the voices of the light that are present in our homes as well?

Perhaps its because its difficult to separate ourselves from the events whose ongoing roles in our hearts and minds leave us with the impression that we don’t have anything else to stand on or to breathe in.    

Or maybe it’s just another day in a life where we don’t really know how to plant words into our own soil so that they will become what defines safety in the dark or how to show up for ourselves on this side of happiness where the belief is that disconnecting from unhappiness leads to being happy.

To recover is to find something again but locating that thing doesn’t necessarily resonate with it having ever been lost, only that other items have bent our attention away from it also being viewed and utilized within us.

We are busy doing the weather and while it’s not yet where its supposed to be on the inside, the pressure is an indication that we continue to have the chance to create love in the parts that before defied our ability to do so.     

Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell

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Garden Stuff #342

Garden Stuff #342

While navigating the changes that we want and the ones that have enfolded us despite our hopes, it’s not what’s around our gardens that affects our growth but what gets into our spaces from other grounds that are only able to guess about the kinds of connections that we have within our environment.

Taking in that information from other locations and placing them onto our pages leads to the unintended consequence of losing our own voices and the ability to be there for ourselves during times that are already filled with doubt.

Words hold no power, though, until we give them a haven to reside in and there are far too many moments where we securely place the debris as the only thing that can be observed as if that loud content knows what safety and comfort in our own stories should look like.

But having found its way in doesn’t mean that any of it belongs with us nor that we should embrace the weight of what we were never meant to carry or to be tangled up by it in our own homes.

If we are not on speaking terms with the definitions that exist from our own encounters, it makes it hard to lean into what is for us, which is that in the dark that pain can bring, courage doesn’t impact the outcome but it’s quiet intent is there to support us anyway.

So what do you have to say about the bravery that it has taken to hold on in a land where handling debris and cultivating expansions often doesn’t go as hoped and thorny memories as well as dragons muddy the ability to find your value in those places of your heart?

After all, I can only imagine how that is uniquely being defined for you and you can only envision its different look in my story as I learn to be all right in both the light and the darkness one step and fall at a time.

We are not always going to love our days or our responses to life but we can choose to hold ourselves while we talk through our flow of emotions that often reach beyond even the most colorful of words.

When it comes to garden stuff, there is always an abundance of seeds to try again with that don’t need more positivity to nourish them, just less negativity in the pieces of our memories and the days where it’s harder to feel the courage let alone support ourselves.

Today is a good day to forgive yourself for having survived in whatever way you have needed to and tomorrow will be the right day to do it all over again regardless of the weather.

Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell  

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So We Meet Again #341

So We Meet Again #341

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

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Gravity #340

Gravity #340

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

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The Dirt #339

The Dirt #339

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

In the Name of #338

In the Name of #338

To the degree in which we feel flowers, happiness and sadness can be conveyed simply through their presence without our having to be vulnerable but beyond those displays that eventually fade, is the embodiment of the hidden existence of our genuine stories.  

Some of my earliest memories of how flowers captured moments of my childhood came from the fragrant roses that stood tall in the warmth of the sun as I passed by them, happily, every day on my way to play.

At other times, flowering plants have illustrated the colors that I have breathed into my heart from what was easy as well as so difficult even though no one else will ever truly know the details that they encompass from my journey.

There have been flowers that unfolded their petals as I stood by watching while storm clouds filled with my tears blurred my vision making them appear farther away than they really were.

There were flowers that gently vibrated to the sound of my loud laughter at celebrations as well as the ones whose attendance were the silent acknowledgement of a life that ended and the beginning of a grief that would go forward with me forever.

There are the ones gathered by little fingers from the weeds whose residence I disliked but were still set in a place of honor because the value wasn’t in what they looked like or where they came from but in who gave it with such joy to me.

There are the blossoms whose familiar marks of blue depict the regret that has burned on the inside and yet that hue is also the color that masterpieces emerge from and I am a work of art in progress.  

There are also the flowers that were given as the symbols of apologies that eventually wilted because for things to take root and grow, the stems can’t be cut and wishes have to be followed by actions to come true.

There are blooms whose rugged foliage protects them and I know that somewhere amongst my rough vegetation and thorns are buds that are working their way through to the light as well.        

Over time, some of my blossoming has become irrelevant and as that hard-earned decay of mine falls away, my strength has begun to flourish from the nutrients that my fear once used to hold me back.

In the name of flowers, there is a variety of greenery that exist in a multitude of biospheres and the truth that they speak in those gardens shows the distance between safe and unsafe as well as how dark and light ebb and flow on any given day in their own stories.

Our mental health contains the levels in which we experience the debris and the blossoms of our emotions and thoughts. Not having the words to manage those exhibits on the inside allows our fear to capture pieces and encapsulate them in the foliage of vulnerability and pain. Keep speaking until you find the individual or group who can help you take the abundance of your mind and heart and place those seeds gently into your living system of strength.

Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell

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