There is a soft
quiet
truth
in every lie.
There is a soft
quiet
truth
in every lie.
You may name it what you will.
But the ocean will always smell like
what is beneath the name.
It will always look like
what is beneath the name.
And it will always feel like my very own soul,
(the underside of my name.)
You may name us both what you will.
But the ocean will always be beyond it all.
And so will the deep of me.
The quiet moments when we see
we’ve been wrong.
They melt the ice of life
into sweet drifts of frost on wind.
I have been wrong
to my own heart,
often without knowing.
I have been wrong,
some days,
some days, it’s true.
Now I float in the mist
of a forgiving heart.
A forgiving heart
to soften the frost,
to sweeten the day around me.
This day.
A try a little, day,
I think.
The possibilities are endless.
The possibilities
are
endless.
Dare to look.
Dare to see.
Your truth is true
because you believe it.
And you must believe it
until you no longer do.
There is no quick way to birth a rose.
A rose must slowly
awaken
to beautiful
wide-open
life.
Wide-open-life.
It is a place that exists only
in the sky of us.
A neutral place,
where all are loved,
and all love
unconditionally.
Believe what you will.
Choose a side
if you will.
It is true for now.
It is true, only for now.
Until the rose opens.
Until the garden grows.
But did they give you a box of darkness?
Or was the darkness
already inside of you.
Waiting for someone to press:
open.
And release.
Oh, the stories we tell
to amuse
and destroy
ourselves.
I bounded out of bed. No, really, I bounded out of bed and bounced around my room, arms and legs flailing— a sort of contemporary dance concoction that would have won me the award for the most daggy morning-human, ever. ( Like, ever ever. )
I’m glad I listened to the quiet whisper that asked me to flick Spotify onto a super playlist of YES, and go with it. It started my day beautifully, and had me connecting to my heart and full energetic flow right away, which I struggle with from time to time, I’ll admit.
I’m feeling positive, at the moment, which feels empowering and wonderful on the back of the bouts of depression I’ve found myself wading through over the past couple of years. I’m probably a little odd in my take on the denser human experiences such as depression, but I believe it’s all there to frame life and to, ultimately, make it better. To show us who, how and where we are now, and to teach us who, how and where we would prefer to be.
Without times of imbalance, how can we possibly know and appreciate our body in equilibrium? How can we recognise the things in life we need to shift if we don’t experience a reaction to them? How can we feel deep empathy for others experiencing tough times, if we haven’t stomped through the sludge, ourselves?
Do I like being depressed? Well, no. It’s a journey fraught with many a winding road and impossibly steep hill. But do I see how it has grown me as an empathic human and broadened my perspective for the good of a great deal more people than just me? Absolutely. And I’m so, so grateful.
I am also grateful to able to dance about the house like an absolute loon and, rather than feel silly, fully LOVE the ways this body of mine can be all the magical things.
YES!
Failure is followed by trying again better.
And so I will never believe in failure.
I will only believe in the pursuit of a beautiful life.