To speak of vulnerabilities are the words of a coward. Or so I’ve been told. As many of my friends know there have been a lot of changes recently. As for some that is an exciting task, but for me it brings sheer terror. My physical capacity has greatly diminished over the years. Everything from bringing bugs into our new home, to suffering from imposter syndrome passes repeatedly through my mind. I suppose if you’ve been beaten down enough even the small victories you do have, can feel like nothing more than random accidents.
And I know, I know I can hear all your comments to “hang in there” and your “thoughts and prayers”. But honestly while I appreciate your words, it’s still only me laying here beneath this glowing screen, punching out these quiet words. So what do we do, what do I do? I do our best to accept how I feel and put those emotions to the wind. Accepting that God or whoever you pray, takes them all away. As I type I’m reminded of just how small we really are. But at the same time, we are still cogs in the wheel of life. Where in broken spoke throws the whole wheel off balance.
So as funny as it may sound, my broken words aren’t so much a cry of defeat. But they are ones of devotion and optimism. That’s because confession is good for the soul and bringing into light is single bravest act you can give yourself. So I live in peace with my many random accidents knowing that each one builds up on a story of true wealth and identity. That we are all more than bit players in our own game. That we are worthy of all the love and attention we are given. That the abuse we were so convinced is all our own, is nothing more than passed down pain from another.
And I know, I know I can hear all your comments to “hang in there” and your “thoughts and prayers”. But honestly while I appreciate your words, it’s still only me laying here beneath this glowing screen, punching out these quiet words. So what do we do, what do I do? I do our best to accept how I feel and put those emotions to the wind. Accepting that God or whoever you pray, takes them all away. As I type I’m reminded of just how small we really are. But at the same time, we are still cogs in the wheel of life. Where in broken spoke throws the whole wheel off balance.
So as funny as it may sound, my broken words aren’t so much a cry of defeat. But they are ones of devotion and optimism. That’s because confession is good for the soul and bringing into light is single bravest act you can give yourself. So I live in peace with my many random accidents knowing that each one builds up on a story of true wealth and identity. That we are all more than bit players in our own game. That we are worthy of all the love and attention we are given. That the abuse we were so convinced is all our own, is nothing more than passed down pain from another.
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