I am who I am
Some days I can feel that spirit craves to write, to share, to put it all out there, but my mind, anxious and tired, does not have the will, the words simply will not come.
But I am learning that I do not have to force myself to create to know I am creative. I do not have to doubt my purpose because I need to rest.
I do not have to be anything other than what I am.
And some days I am sad. Some days I sob until my eyes swell.
Some days I am anxious. Some days I delete more messages than I send.
Some days I am tired. Some days I get off work and immediately fall asleep on my couch watching tv.
Some days I fall short.
Some days I let myself down.
Some days I wonder why I push on.
But I am worthy. And I am here. And this is who I am.
And who I am looks different moment by moment, year by year, and I am learning to accept who I am. In every moment. In every circumstance. In the midst of every difficult day. I am who I am.
I am here. I am alive.
And as long as I am alive, there will again be days where I thrive. And there will again be days where I feel connected to spirit. There will again be days where love leads.
There will again be days where I feel passionate. There will again be days where I write with abandon and without anxiety. There will again be days where I create.
But until that day, I will sit in acceptance. This is who I am today.
And who I am today is many things, and many things make up who I am.
And I am whole.
And I am worthy.
I am who I am.
The Power of Testimony
Verbal stories have been passed down throughout the generations,
throughout all of time.
We share of loves and of family,
and of triumphant battles,
of heartbreak and of loneliness,
and of our greatest falls.
And as I sit here with you all,
and listen to your words intermingle,
I, for the first time in a long time,
feel the bravery to remember my own.
To sit down with myself,
with my own truth, and remember.
To recall the worn, folded pages,
with scratched out words, and
think about the story of my life,
and wrestle with my demons,
as you speak of overcoming them.
I hear the chains breaking off of you,
off of me and I hear the sound
of freedom ringing.
The sound of a heavy heart,
and a tired soul,
finally at peace with their own truth,
and the healing to be found within it.
This is the power of empathy,
of shared truths,
of testimony.