I live my life through the words I write
For most of my life
I have struggled
and do struggle
to see the forest
rather than the trees.
The split seconds
the brief and beautiful moments
where all I can see is the forest
the unified whole
seem so fleeting
when my gaze habitually resumes
onto individual trees
my heart shatters
at the let down
at the loss
at the implied regression.
Pause.
Breathe.
Zoom out.
See the forest
beyond
and within.
It’s always there.
I grew up believing
in the black-and-white of right-and-wrong,
the this-or-that,
the all-or-nothing.
As I chase validation
I see my fear of living outside the box
as deviation.
I see now,
it becomes clear,
the opportunity to see continuums
rather than boxes.
What is right, or what is wrong,
depends on your perspective.
What is black, or what is white,
depends upon the shade of your glasses.
I want to live
in a space so vast I cannot see the walls,
with colors and sounds and open boxes
scattered, their contents spilling,
where everything is right, is accepted,
in any given moment.
The moon rests at the peak of its cycle
full, and bright,
shining radiant white light
down upon the world.
Contrasting against the enveloping jet black night
it calls forward shapes, animals,
out from the dark and into my view.
I hardly need my headlights
as I travel down the highway.
I marvel at this natural duality
of light and dark,
at the dualities surrounding me.
I can see the light, I can see the dark,
vast they are, in all they invite to live
within them.
Welcoming and accepting they must be,
for I see dark in light, and light in dark.
Perspective matters.
Choice also matters.
When I can see the light and the dark
and their inter-connectedness,
choice matters
and the choice is mine.
Resuming a sense of normalcy
from before, before the world changed.
But, isn’t the world always changing
and we just hardly notice?
The familiar offers comfort and routine
back into the voids structure has vacated.
Remember when this was all we knew
and expected?
My perspective has changed
and maybe, so have I in this process.
I feel little familiarity, scarce comfort;
unease and inquisition sit with me instead,
surrounded by those basking in normalcy’s return.
Must it all return to how it was before?
Adorn your fears, your insecurities,
your uncertainties,
with vocality.
Give them a voice, give them sounds
so they can leave you
and live here, out in the open,
under the observation of perspectives
other than your own.
You cannot do this all on your own.
We are here to help you.
Stop where you are.
Look at the tree, the single tree
in front of you,
and the one beside.
But also, look beyond.
Look out, at the giant forest
standing tall in the background,
where some trees in the front
can be distinguished,
but the further you look
the more they all blur together.
A sea of greens and browns,
needles and leaves,
rocks and twigs
individual, but collective.
When you cannot see the forest for the trees,
you lose the collective.
Stop, step back,
appreciate the forest
and your tree within it.
Sometimes
all it takes,
is listening to
and empathizing with others
to realize,
no matter how real
my pain and struggles may seem,
my mind often gets the better of me
and turns mole hills
into mountains.
Dawning Words 