Regardless of where we are, feels can stir up our words so much so that in the conversations with ourselves, lies sound like the righteousness of our stories while the truth shape shifts into the lying dragons that remind us we are living without being enough.
We don’t even have to say why those cycles of feelings have moved forward anymore because their opinions are the weight that we have become so very familiar with in the automatic chats of the troubles that hold us back.
And it’s the intrusive way in which that debris covers us that makes the sincerity of the quieter spots the kind of moments where we fake smiles of being fine as often as we pretend to see the glow of hope in the committed relationships that we have had with the darkness.
But no matter how much time we have lived in vulnerability through the pieces of what the truth has meant in our stories, we can still meet up with the honest view that strength does not the signify the absence of fear or depression nor does anger exude strength.
Our view of what the enemy looks like tells us that we should only have certain thoughts and steps to avoid the bad weather in our hearts but art in the land of gardens balances all stages as being necessary processes regardless of how they look or feel.
We don’t need to have all of the answers however it is essential that we create the conditions that support what hurts and feels wasted within our homes because all of what has seemed to own us is worthy of being seen and held by us.
For every word there is another within it and another and yet still another that deep down embodies our emotions and there is safety as well as power in choosing which one speaks to us and when it is allowed to.
So if today feels dark, the less negative version is that the day is poorly lit and we have the option to look at the truth of that and feel uncomfortable but to also breathe in that we have begun to surround our suffering with the quiet version of love that we have been hoping would come to support us all along.
We have repeatedly done what the words we wear have said so when we hear them trying to lay waste to moments they don’t belong in with memories of our woundedness, its time for us to let those friendships decay.
There won’t be some sort of final good-bye or dramatic release of the pain nevertheless there will be a silent expansion in the honesty of how we feel in our grief as well as a slow reveal of how opinions from the yesterdays were merely the old survival tactics of lies, truths and of course dragons.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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