Vulnerability is like drowning, but finding out you can breathe, albeit in a different way. And although some people find this out, it still can be a discomfort to not resurface and not go back again to the kind of air and pressure they were used to all along.
But vulnerability is really submerging all of you, and letting all the masks and layered insulation you’ve had in place slowly loosen and release under water, being carried away because it’s no longer needed.
You don’t experience yourself clearly when all the mirrors you’ve placed around yourself only reflects the small of yourself that you were comfortable being uncomfortable with.
Tenderly living is like the sun’s shine. How it continuously radiates but can never peak back inside at it’s own core to define it. It just lives from it. Breathes from it. Always in touch with it.
And what feels like fire to your lungs at first later becomes what you know is necessary. Because it forces you to stay in between each moment instead of trying to conquer each moment, with swords and armor and vigilance that only tires you out at the end and beginning of each day.
Learn to be submerged. Learn to breathe inconspicuously. Learn to love and be loved in a different way.
it’s a strange thing when in order to prove that you are strong, you have to deny what it is that makes you most human. as if the sound of your heart racing will echo into all distances and make you suddenly sniffed out as prey to be capsized.
we slow our hearts down so much for this as if to make it seem like we don’t even own one. as if the racing of our minds and other things are better. as if the flush on our skins will make us too susceptible to being found out. found out for what ? for having emotions and inner lives, which needn’t be a secret anymore in this day and age. we are equipped and have always been equipped with something that will lead us ultimately out of the dark.
Continue reading musings of the heart
the worst of it is over. it still doesn’t mean you don’t have to sit with the havoc that it wreaked though. it still doesn’t mean that you don’t have to go around picking up the pieces, trying to salvage the salvageable, seeing what you can mend and what you cannot.
the pertinent points of it that categorizes such a destruction is no longer here, but we sit in its wake all the same. we sit here, stupefied for a little bit, disoriented for a little bit, still weighed down by the mess that rearranged our nervous systems a little bit. it takes a while to collect ourselves and most importantly, to start facing the reality that things will never be the same again.
but that in itself doesn’t have to be a bad thing. you can’t go back to the same life you were leading because as you can see, that one is already torn up. that phase has passed. it always is going to be the road with all signs pointing to a second life now. that is your true north now. everything is waiting for your ground to grow with more fertility this time.
there is a heaviness that such chaos brings, but it can be clipped into paper birds and paper airplanes and be flung out to leave lightness for yourself and breadcrumbs for others. a snowing of what has survived. the worst of it is over now. but that doesn’t mean we stop wanting more and carving better for ourselves.