i’ve worn them until they got too tight, too loose, too scratchy, too hot, and sweaty — until my suit got otherwise too uncomfortable to don a single second longer.
stripping off the layers of who i am not leaves me barer — closer to the core i sometimes see and other times believe, the essence of universal love we all are, not the beaten and bruised ego lurching and lugging its weight around for attention.
age 25 lurks two months away. a halfway check point of some sort.
as i arrive at the fully formed brain finish line, what grasps me becomes clearer. i cradle old wounds gently, like babies, instead of rubbing coarse salt into their openings, as if preparing them for another round of blistering barbecuing.
i hold them, and coo, questioning them with kindness.
the power siphoned out of me by own decree is alarming. how did i make myself so small? when did i throw my own robes off, declaring you all kings and queens and i nothing more than a servant fit to swallow my soul and cater to yours alone? where did i displace my very own divinity?
but, i am here now, not there. not where i still struggle unendingly to bind my openings with the approval and applaud of people. i am here, building the structure to house my sense of self in. i am here, uncaging my freedom.
i am still a messy human, yes, but i am tending and mending, growing new out of old.
to be bold is to risk living your truth out loud. it is to leave behind the shell of who you thought yourself to be and step into the rawness of the real you. it is to swim through experience, not gripping and grasping to the pieces you want to change or the bits you want to keep forever.
let go of your hurts, your expectations, your knowledge, your need to be right. let go, finger by finger, until you are once again wide, wide open to the world and its wonders.
for you are beautiful, a miraculous miracle, dressed in godly robes, endowed with divine knowledge, and coded with love.
the sleepy sea of ‘me’ is shrinking shallow —
all the love, all the light,