Standing here in the Rubble.
Dazed and battered. Not quite sure how to move. My ears ringing and my body bloody. Tears streaming down my face. My head is pounding and I wish for sleep. But I know it may elude me tonight. There are too many bruises from the crash I just experienced. The crash of every false reality I have carried.
Unsure of where or how it all started or formed.
Sure though that it is all now at an end.
Now to clean up and rebuild. First with tender forgiveness and compassion. Slowly wiping and dressing my wounds. Allowing healing waters to wash over me and trickle into my cuts. Stinging at first, encouraging a bit more blood to flow.
Ready to for the healing to begin.
Slowly the resolve and strength return, rising within like a flame. The power I had so freely given away for so long is now my new breath. My chest rising and falling with each new burst of heat. Burning away the remaining scars and regret. Holding me and surrounding me with it’s compassion. Urging me to access it’s wisdom and fierceness. A force to be revered.
This fire will enable me to walk, it will propel me with each breath. Carrying me for now until I can find my own strength again. Find my own power and beauty again. For now I must take it slow while still recovering. One step at a time. Continuing to dress my wounds as they heal, and holding myself tenderly.
My voice is still shaky as it finds the new words. The words coming from a deeper place within. The ones that are truly mine to share and not what someone told me to believe. I don’t fully know what it sounds like yet as it is still maturing. But I can feel it’s wisdom and grace. Grace that will touch the lives of many to follow, not just mine alone.
This, this is my duty.
This is why I experienced and survived.
It will not go to waste. This gift given to me. The dignity I have reclaimed. And to now see my wholeness and the ugliness that was misplaced. I am grateful for the opportunity to witness the divinity within me, and in those still lost in pain. Not far removed from the fog, I can see where they are lost. And for now if only to share compassion and tender love for them, this I will do.
Until one day when they are ready to also crash within the mist, and to wake from the blow. Seeing clearer than ever before, where they have barely existed for so long.
Standing in their own rubble, and unsure if they can move.
For us all, there is much work to do.
This journey has destroyed me many times. And it has saved me many more. Waiting for me to remember the grace.
The grace within. The road is long. But it is beautiful.
I can not only see it clearly now, I have the strength to walk it. Slowly for now. But strong enough to have others follow. If they so choose.
I want to work with you.
The one reading this and feels the tears forming. Feels the tightness around their heart. You can make that first step too.
I am here too, just ahead of you. Holding out my hand.
The bravest action you will take is to choose yourself first.
Just by taking the hand offered. And the compassion within that first touch. Felt even at a distance through the heart. It is there.
You can start with a message. If not to me, to someone.
Someone who has the capacity for tenderness and grace.
Holding you in this space.
While you find the strength to move your legs.
Towards the life available for you.
When you decide to move.
Let’s walk this road together.