Unruly and disciplined; constantly aware of how deep or shallow her breath.
And so, I fall in love
Prompting her to release the grip
To blossom
Escaping the deceptive grasp that has only assured malcontent despite its seductive whispers
She begins to rise from the dirt
The classroom of her tears teach that all she desires is immediate; well watered and nourished.
Obstructed decades filled with unclear images of worth, value, and beauty fall into the shambles of an identity now tucked away in memories; underground forever.
I pick her from the earth, take her home, a love for a lifetime.
The fortress of the mind is clever to convince that remaining inside is the way to live
Synchronizing fear with imagination, a cruel duo that binds one to the familiar and adds distance to dreams
So what if corners remain dark in life and light is intimidating to step into?
I have found the way to enjoy existence is to embrace terror.
Is that the knowing of God? To walk foolishly into the wisdom of faith. Pacifying the crude spectators that think you mad? Little do they know, the more they grumble at your movement, the further their resentment plants them into barren soil.
I must move anyway.
It is fiction to think that a compass or map is necessary to find oneself. In the simplest of terms, where one stands is where one is, all further complication comes from lack of trust. It is storytelling of the mind and riddles of the dark jester. The one whose jokes he only laughs at. The architect of the fortress of the mind.
My spirit is called to swim in heart’s ocean. Boundless, deep, and abundant. Ambivalent to direction, time, and precision, yet perfect. Also haunting, destructive, and defiant.
The ocean of the heart is just as dangerous as the mind but superior in that no matter where you enter, you will be led to God, by God. The only way to find God in the mind is to travel through the heart.
The feeling of space and quandary is the original given gift. Our shortcoming as humans is answering heart questions with mind thoughts. Therein lies the genesis of tension and misalignment.
The heart’s reasoning will never satisfy the mind’s processes, and the mind’s analysis frustrates the heart’s simplicity. Ignorance of the mind finds heart’s simplicity of common nature, and sensitivity of the heart finds mind’s methodical habits an abandonment of beauty.
Both are wrong and prideful.
The longer the heart and mind interact as if one is superior, the longer the war will remain. They are both essential, sovereign, and marvelous. To realize life’s value, both heart and mind must dance together to the music of doubt.
In the midst of pirouettes, certainty emerges and love prevails.
My eyes have a convenient haze when they look at you. Allowing me only to see what I am ready to see.
Do you see me?
Do you want to?
Are you looking?
Maybe it is time to remove the haze. Maybe what I am not ready to see is ready for me. Maybe it always has been.
Why do you continue to love me? Love is such a finicky word. Changing its meaning with the tone of voice. I’m not quite sure if love feels good or that it is as great as most make it out to be.
It can feel like prison bars that the outside world envies. Almost as if the lovers are shackled to an idea rather than a person. Is that love?
We face opposite directions in bed at night.
Yet I know exactly when he is awake.
Stretch
Yawn
Roll over
Get up
Well-rehearsed choreography.
Yet there is a part of me that refuses to let go, deep down I hear “don’t give up”
Walking away doesn’t feel like the answer and continuing this way doesn’t work either.
So what’s next?
Does love mean that you agree to grow together trembling and uncertain?
It seems love is more of a decision than a feeling. Feelings fluctuate, sometimes reliable but change like the weather.
A decision is sober, conscious, consistent
I don’t believe we truly love if we have one without the other
It’s hard to decide on anything because there is always a chance you are wrong
If a lie is flattering does it matter that it’s untrue?
The goal we have to feel good and worthy and meaningful at all hours of the day inevitably invites lies. Constant satisfaction is not human.
We are born and grow against our will (most of the time) surviving off uncertainty gifted by our ancestors, but somehow expected to muster fortitude for the future.
Encouraged to embrace some version of ourselves which is a watered down or over-saturated replica of our parents convinced that this is my truth.
How can we know our truth when the truth seems so elusive? Questions, always questions.
Only able to find solace if someone outside of ourselves affirms we are here. Needing acknowledgement to make it to tomorrow. Self-care, no, tell me who cares?
Exchanging compliments is the new bartering system. Tell me that I matter in the way I need you to and I will return the favor. If truth comes it comes, I have yet to see if but I am a woman of faith.
Despite appearances, faith is not synonymous with naivety. Easy to confuse the two, I admit. Some believe strong faith is a comforting lie. Most lies are comforting. I think that is why we do it.
A quest to feel safe.
Tell me I’m young enough and attractive, smart and able. Reassure me that I did the right thing, that I tried my best, that they like me, that it will all be ok. I don’t need the truth, nor do I want it. I can’t handle it so I avoid it. Be a friend and lie to me. A true friend lies, an enemy is honest.
Do you know how much I can do with a lie? I can build a life, be happy, find love, gain prosperity, see the world, influence others, as long as I have that lie, I can have anything.
The truth is another story.
The truth shall set you free, free enough to where? I am terrified to be set free because I don’t know where I would go.
