I live my life through the words I write
Recognizing
moments
of my nervous system
easefully resting,
my lungs breathing
slow and deep,
my mind clearing,
my heart
opening.
Recognizing
circumstances
welcoming
and embracing me
into this calmness.
Recognizing
the time spent away from here
and the nourishment
in this
reunion.
I cannot assume
the judgements I cast upon others
are replicated
upon me by other people.
I judge others harshly
in anticipation
they too will judge me harshly
so I can prepare self-defenses
in advance.
But it is possible
that other people’s judgements of me
are different,
lesser than,
or even non-existent.
Imagine if they were non-existent;
the expended energy wasted
in anxiety.
For how long
have I been living on autopilot?
Living the same cycles
over and over again
without critical analysis
of my intentions, purposes,
beliefs,
values?
Was it a method of survival,
sticking close to what I knew
and could trust,
when so much beyond
felt out of control,
despairing?
Was it an avoidance of vulnerability,
of coming face to face
with my deeper self
and acknowledging the change I wanted,
dreamed of,
but did not dare manifest?
Now, with space,
the questions and reflections pour into me
like a hot cup of coffee
filling the mug,
reaching the brim
and overflowing.
I can avoid them no longer
as a pool of coffee collects around the cup
and I am not one
to let coffee go to waste.
Observe how parts of you
shift,
ascend and recede like the tide,
introducing a new side of you
to yourself
every day.
Passions peak and wane
to our pleasure or dismay.
Try not to make meaning
of the waves,
for when at last you do,
they will already be gone,
leaving you in the still, shallow water
gently caressing your ankles.
Walk in the direction opposite
to the voice in your head
if that voice
does not belong to you.
Starting with short, clean,
clear-polished slates,
twice or thrice
daily lotioning,
keeping mind and body
meaningfully occupied,
together
can grow
a new path through the forest.
I had a safe space.
I invited people in.
I realized
my decision was premature
too late.
My safe space dissolved
into an empty void
for months,
tainted by the destruction
I had invited in,
in naivete.
A piece of me broke away.
Remembering
if I made it once
I can make it again
and this time,
add an extra padlock on the door.
No one expects an invitation
so I disregard any felt obligation
to extend one.
Reclaiming safety
for my soul.
I started a new page in the notebook
with a title at the top:
‘What are some things that I feel CONFIDENT in about myself?’
I started a page on the left,
assuming I would need the spread of both left and right pages
like an open book,
to display my confident knowings
for surely, once I started listing,
pages would fill before my eyes.
My list consists of four bullet points,
consuming a quarter of one page.
The rest of the page-spread remains blank.
I cannot think of more to add.
Adding this to the docket of items
to discuss
at my next therapy session.
As the saying goes,
the past is the past
but at the same time
past can come into the present
if further examination
will help you to process
what did or did not
happen
and who you are now
for it.
My therapist
encouraged me to practice making decisions
faster
and based on my instincts.
Not every decision needs to be
weighed and analyzed
for hours
before reaching a conclusion –
a novel concept
for my brain to comprehend.
I took her advice;
I could hear her voice in my head
gently pushing me
out of my head
and into my body.
Warm air, sunshine-soaked sky
lured me to be outside
and move,
while listening.
I want to walk through the park,
I want to explore a new trail,
I want to recreate a small sliver of wild
I chase and revel in elsewhere.
I laugh at myself
as I walk along the trail
at this series of decisions
being the most impulsive I have been
in months.
When did I become so scared of living?
Dawning Words 