I read, “and in the end, all I learned was how to be strong alone.”
I disagree.
In the end, I have learned that living a kind and authentic life earns you connections with good people with big hearts who are willing to catch and hold you when you fall.
Strength cannot exist without vulnerability. You only have to be alone if you choose to shut the world out.
Be willing to be vulnerable. Be willing to ask for help. Be more willing to receive help. Build a loving village.
You don’t have to be alone to be strong. Being alone is a choice, not a consequence.
I sit in my silver armor upon my golden throne Light streams in through my temple's high windows Painting the floor below my dais in deep lavender beams The temple is quiet and familiar and mine
The doors to the chamber open and he enters Shadows trailing from his shoulders Like a cloak woven from smoke He strides forward Until he is stopped by the barrier of lavender light We lock eyes with each other He kneels upon the stones A gesture of only minor supplication For his eyes never leave mine
I close my eyes and breathe I feel the gauntlets release from my wrists The greaves from my legs The chest plate and chain mail The weight of them suddenly gone I open my eyes and watch as the armor becomes dark smoke Passing through the boundary Returning to him I do not need protection any longer The silver collar releases from my throat Then the silver circlet from my brow And last the silver band upon my finger The weight of him removed from me Cleansed and returned to his keeping
My eyes return to his Now he breathes deeply and black smoke flows from him As it passes through the lavender boundary The smoke becomes like liquid gold A delicate gold filigree pendent alights above my heart Glowing with a quietly fierce fire I can feel a gentle thrum as it syncs with my pulse Upon my head appears a grand and golden fiery crown Radiating strength and power Pulsing with each breath Now restored, these symbols of my power blaze to life Burning away every shadow in the temple Returning the quiet fire to my eyes
His shadows retreat as does his gaze He bows his head once This ritual of returning and release ended I watch as he rises, turns, and retreats He disappears back through the temple's doors They close silently behind him Tethered together no longer I sit in my power Whole again and free
The cell was sparse Florescent lights Sleeping platform Stainless steel toilet and sink But the walls They were covered in other people's stories The wall above the cot had been decorated in crayon A large, pink pointe shoe Someone's broken dream on display Doodles and hash marks A newspaper clipping of a local sports team's championship win So many names so the walls would recall their existence So the next inmates had connection to the ones who came before I sat alone with their ghosts Waiting for my turn to leave part of myself behind
There are days I’m not ok Or hours Or minutes Or breaths The doubt suffocating Grief a scream locked deep in my chest I am reminded I am making the right choices Shown proof of it again and again Did you know the right things can Sometimes feel so terribly wrong
Sometimes the fear rises The paralyzing fear of all the ugliness I so desperately seek freedom from You never believe you’re conditioned To feel you deserve abuse until you are Until your stomach drops as the energy changes And your breathing quickens And you start calculating how bad their rage will be this time
Words bruise so much worse than fists The self doubt stripping your confidence The gaslighting destabilizing reality despite Your inner voice calling out the lies in all of it Knowing that there is no defense when you Are forced to wear the badge of victimizer Despite being the real victim Because it makes them feel powerful and justified Emotional abuse is a mind fuck of the worst degree And some people make a career of the art of it
In this breath This minute This hour This day I am not ok They say I will be someday
There was a girl who was friends with God The girl was told God was a man in white robes But her God was a woman in a soft blue dress Who let the girl sleep protected in her arms Just the same as she held her own son
Oh Peter! You have lost a Lost Boy He never made it to Neverland He couldn't find the second star on the right And he ended up in the Alleys of Midnight Alone and scared No one could hear him No one would help him Everyone he trusted let him down
Oh Peter! As he grew up (For the Alleys of Midnight Forced everyone to grow up) His spirit grew dark His shadow dominant He waited for rescue that never came And his tears turned him bitter And his bitterness bred a rage That would quake the feather In Captain Hook's hat
Oh Peter! Can you help him? Can you rescue him? Can you take him to the forests And play follow-the-leader games? Can you show him how to Think happy thoughts again? Can you resurrect his inner child By splashing in the Mermaid Lagoon? Can you help him believe in hope again?
I want to live in a cabin between the woods and the sea I want to smell mossy earth and pine resin at daybreak Wood smoke and salt air at sunset I want to be surrounded by books and filtered sunlight Candles, blank pages, and moonlight I want to walk with hopes by day And dance with dreams by night I want to watch banana slugs explore my garden I want to hear the chorus of crashing waves Gulls crying exultantly from the sky Wind playing chase through the cypress boughs
I want to be free of the chains of expectations Free of the weight of the looming other shoe I wish not to drink from any more bitter cups Fall on any more swords Remove twisted daggers from my back I crave peace Beauty Lightness Hope Creativity Freedom I crave relationships that are mutually supportive That nurture souls That transact in honesty Respectfulness Genuineness Ease Love
Words Wishes and Wisdom 