The transition that I’m going through right now has left me devoid of any tools I’d formerly acquired. I’ve been given a child’s toy box filled with ancient lessons, many of which I’d discarded in favor of happier memories to be created.
I am not upset with the choices I’ve made to arrive in the womb of my birth, but that womb has been long absent, my ties severed and rewoven with the intention of a more beautiful tapestry. That has, indeed, been the result of an unending compromise of spirits bound by strength, embattled by power, and a fierce defense against those who attempt to stifle the sacred vow of compassion between the hearts.
My terror of losing whom I’ve worked so hard for many years to become fades and sharpens in focus depending on the moment. At times I feel the liberation from the blossoming fields into fruition while, to the contrary, I also feel the drought that loss affords when one is used to abundance.
I am a refugee from poverty where I’ve lived for so long. But I also know that my shirt sleeves that are pushed up around my elbows are no stranger to fighting injustice in the trenches of a dismissive society.
I re-post this as a reminder that my rebirth has moved into another stage of labor, a thinning of the membrane that, when pressed firmly enough, will erupt with inspiration, creativity, warmth, and everything else I know myself to be with an even more stellar position in the world beyond the stars.
At your leisure, may you enjoy this article as much as I needed to be reminded that the process is working. I am okay. I will be okay.
I am gestating in the womb of change and progress.
I am developing the skills and strength to become reborn in my own image without the yoke of false hope, without the bearing of bloody lies, without the praise for being different tainted with shame. The strings and ropes that moored me to the shore are severed with my clear consent. I am no longer anchored at the pier of someone else’s demands and lack of mercy. What is no longer necessary for my survival is falling away rapidly, some of which is regret.
I Regret that I didn’t realize sooner what was occurring. I Regret that my need to hope that things would improve could not be sated by the harmful actions of others. Regret that I saw the omens, realized the map, and ignored my compass.
But there will…
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