Peace is justified, and the desperate longing for its gentle embrace illuminates the path through the dense forest of fear. Life continues full of painfully slow and exhausting recovery, yet peace still evades. Toxic entities are increasingly transparent as they swarm in the light of hope emanating from our open wounds. With one violent revolution of the earth, one precarious step on the path, sometimes just one excruciating breath at a time, we chase the peace we so valiantly deserve.
Control is an illusion, and the fight against reduction is perpetual.
I remember planning my future, where I’d go to college, what I’d study, and how my future career would allow for some flexibility for the unexpected. It was a logical, researched and well-thought-out plan.
I’ve come to realize much of the anxiety, distress, and ultimately dis-ease in my life originated from my stubbornness to follow this plan at all costs. The amount of energy expended trying to control my life depleted my ability to respond to the inevitable “shit show.”
It takes great restraint to focus my efforts on what is happening right now rather than attempting a stranglehold on the cornucopia of “what ifs.” Now, my plan is like following a map to a destination unbeknownst to me. The map helps guide me, but I must find my own way.
Under a tree, its leaves rustling in the midnight breeze
On a swing, dangling above the ground with the child in me
Near the ocean, watching the hypnotic waves cast the taste of salt in the air
Counting the stars, infinity played out before my eyes
Loved by the moon, lighting my world in the darkest of times
The stress, hurt, and fear piles on creating a jagged mountain of distress. Then, all it takes is a feather landing on top or a whisper of breath for it all to come tumbling down. The taste of blood in the back of my throat, a raging migraine, and my heart beating out of my chest – the consequences of holding it all in for so long. Afterward, there is clarity and motivation to carry on.
How can you sleep at night? We hardly sleep at all, yet I suspect you sleep just fine. Afterall, you never did anything wrong, and these memories we all fight so hard to resolve are an elaborate fabrication. What a lovely, fantasy world you in which you dwell. Beware, for it will all crumble down eventually and when it does, we will be stronger than ever. Relish your memories of when you had complete power and control over us because those times are extinct!
Imagine if we could see the emotional pain and scars represented on the skin of those around us. Festering, oozing, open sores on the skin of those still trapped in their pain and black and blue bruises covering the bodies of those beginning to heal. What about those with scars? Some may hide the scars, embarrassed by their pain and past struggle even though they had to be so very strong just to survive. Those with scars that show, uncovered in the sun, for all to see may be the strongest of all. These are the scars of people who were strong enough to survive, heal, and continue living despite their past. How different would we relate to people if we could see their internal pain? How different would we present ourselves if our past was visible on our skin?