Certainty is absorbed into the talk of change while hesitation is occupied by the language of weaknesses that prevent movement.
With that translation showing up in how we talk about ourselves and our ideas about navigating big emotions.
Not just the grief but the dances of all, distracting from spaces in need of something that isn't sideways.
Advice to have a nice relationship with certainty as if we are meant to keep tossing aside suffering to meet up at the same finish line.
But safety and movement feel painfully quiet when history hasn't been applying those pieces in the same way.
Or even as determination has been honored in moments, but comparison still only picks songs about what's missing.
Leaving us wondering why we stumble within view of others that seemingly have been raised by a different kind of certainty.
Making it easier to tear ourselves down more than it has ever been to build our gardens up, long after those pages have been turned.
And then there's hesitation and how its content is like an endless puddle at the entrance to our own home.
Pushing us even harder into the confusing feedback of being both the writer and the main character who are collaborating in that doorway.
The place where we lose ourselves in the contradiction of thinking we should be strong while the heart drifts in the answer of feeling so very weak.
And the view of impossible with its never-ending loop of limiting colors.
And yet hesitation has a very important role in our stopping to ask questions that lead to awareness in deeper suffering.
As the reminder that every good story doesn't always know what it's doing and has to wait and see if it's going to end up hurting or not.
In moving previous harrowing experiences over just enough to allow slivers of light to disarm the highlight reel.
Grasping tightly to that care when out of habit, the mind awakens with hesitation and the heart rages with fear.
As well as gently walking with its guidance in the found truth that the proof of reliability is being slowly redefined within our individual stories.
For words that are meant to be bridges don't always land us in the same places on the journeys of hand-painted works of art.
So, let's take it all back in everything we gave away because the outcome is what we draw close whether that's a dragon painstakingly clearing the path or one that continues the distortion until hesitation finally gets to be all that it is in the doorway.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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