Roaming around in our stories are words that tell us who we are.
As the reminders of the moments and marks that have shaped us.
Of their repetitive familiar speech without an on-off switch.
Of the long and messy process of our gardens.
Where details become heavy enough that change is desired.
But the gap between where hope rises and the sun shines isn’t exactly a cheery place.
Isn’t a walk without a lot of things still trying to stay attached.
Isn’t art that knows what colors paint who we want to be.
Isn’t the expected direction that holding hands with hope would imply.
And it never mentions that, on multiple occasions, support will run out of supplies.
Never gives away how easy it will be to turn around as the sand gets deeper.
Never shares that silence and noise are also heavy.
Never tells us that before there can be an after, there is the desert of becoming.
The place where dreams urge us to hurry and fear is afraid we won’t make it out.
Where navigating the rain has to somehow be even better than on the clearest of days in the before.
Where the main character isn’t replaced but slowly diluted with care for the battles as well as the beauty.
For the words that have been freer with despair than ease.
For the shadows that have never felt special.
For the highlights that have felt so underestimated in their photoshoots.
Because after isn’t just colored from a day that’s been turned.
Isn’t movement that our choreography has approved of yet.
Isn’t a neat box where struggles will remain gathering dust.
So until we get there, the rigid system has to learn to relax.
Different has to practice painting potential.
Memories have to stop turning us against ourselves.
Falling has to take its job seriously in calling out safety over its vulnerability.
And worthy has to be on the move to support the before and the middle to supply the after.
Words make us feel some way and while they don’t always feel friendly, they are always the companions open to strategy when we are with them.
To expand and contract communication so that the narrative of who we believe we are doesn’t detour us in becoming the person closer in sight to who we want to be.
Have the best day, POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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