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
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
So many things happen as we are exposed to the elements of life and along with our resulting marks, seeds of distrust for ourselves are planted that have the ability to devastate the old growth of our experiences, dreams and hopes as well as the future ones.
We never forget the person that we were before, during and after an event because, prior to, we believe that we had some sort of understanding of ourselves that was changed when darkness began operating and we often spend a multitude of moments quietly wanting to get back to that familiar position of being.
Logic can provide a certain amount of safety in our everyday lives but when it comes to the complexities of emotions, that reasoning has no ability to help with the war of pain, leaving us stagnant in a lop-sided and vulnerable place in our very own homes.
We do not know how to feel valuable while containing things that we think depreciate us and the demands of the repetitive songs of sorrow have us seeking closure through the avoidance and the cloaking of uncomfortable feels in order to just to hang on.
If we maintain the expression of our natural language that has proven to not help us with processing previous grief, then how can we confidently go forward where unhappy weather is always possible while continuing to navigate from that same mindset?
We have been in overwhelming darkness not only because of situations, emotions and confusion but as a result of the magnification of the ideas that we are unworthy if we hold those marks and that silence is better for everyone else even though that means we carry on with the weight of the world.
To feel we are worth keeping, we have to want to validate what we have believed made us disposable because pain cannot be argued away or kept quiet but it is possible for us to learn to live in the absence of light without being miserable.
Words are missing from our pages despite already having the details and some of the knowledge to place them there and just because we don’t love all that can be written, it doesn’t mean that flowers won’t eventually grow from them nor that we won’t ever be happy because of them.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Stacked within every person, including the one we see reflected in the mirror, are the artifacts that have been gathered along our journeys and what we don’t know about those items is how deeply we or someone else will feel on the inside because of the hidden and vulnerable relationship that we each have with the darkness.
Ultimately, we each grieve what we survive as well as the life that we think different would have made better and the more that we lean into that perceived truth, the more that we are trapped in the frames that remind us of what didn’t go right.
Being in the place that we are now while still feeling as if we are surviving our former moments and or mental health challenges, leaves us embodying the pain and the desire to withdraw for having parts that are under construction while also carrying the false idea that others are walking debris-free trails.
Spaces that aren’t pleasant, though, are not the things that anyone can truly be prepared for because until we have actually encountered the conflicts, what exists for us is the imagined strength that we have bound within our hope where storms and gloom are absent from the pages of our stories.
We are neither simply full of the colors of our unhappy events nor just the sum of the mementos that hold the bold reminders of how tears fall from laughter too because to know one side is to experience the opposite as well and what we wish for does not control the ebb and flow of either.
The light feels so special and comfortable with its encouragement for us to stay as we are but the unwanted, confining darkness that seems to hold us back is actually the creator of the movement of change that’s needed in all of us.
Its not about the yesterdays or about what we think has broken us but rather what we do, now, with the things that have borrowed time from us and whether we will continue to multiply our suffering in the tomorrows or learn to trust that while grief affects us, we are not the events or issues that have generated the emotions of sorrow.
This is you and this is me as well and when things don’t go as we want, who we have been is not who we have to continue to be controlled by because in the moments where there is an absence of light, it is in the darkness that the reflection of sometime warriors can be seen.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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