For so long I conflated my power with my violence. In this misconception I began to shy away from my power in fear I would hurt others. These last few days it’s become evident that is not the case. My violence was not my power, my heart is and always has been. My tenderness with myself and self acceptance is. My stance in my self respect is. My ability to see love even in places where it can be difficult to, that’s powerful. My innate power and acknowledgement of my innate power, is my sovereignty. Which is not a doing, it is very simply my being. I don’t have to do anything to be powerful. I already am and always have been.
In looking I’ve realized I have spent much of my life subconsciously looking at history like a play wondering where do I fit, what part is mine to take on? The thing is, the play is over. It’s over. I don’t have to follow a role. I can do whatever I want. It’s a worthwhile play to learn from, not a play for me to keep leapfrogging throughout my life in the name of preservation. Not to perpetuate it blindly based on the fear of perpetuating it blindly.
Every part of history is mine. I belong to every single part of it as it is ultimately about humanity, this planet and its inhabitants. I am not separate from any of it. I am both innocent and guilty. Not from shame from awareness, self love and self acceptance. It is all mine. I belong. With that lesson in mind I am free. The play is over. Who I choose to be now is solely my responsibility.
I believe we all have wings Tipped upward unfurling from within
Can you feel their beat?
Feathers guilded with surprise
Requiring no agreement
I feel their touch in my smile
Everything is OK
It is all Divine
Flap of wings whisper, Are you ready?
Body relaxes into a delicious Yes
Wonder negates gravity
Anything is possible.
I have slain dragons and touched on my own dragons bloodSurvived the troll bridges
Breathed fire across the burning lakes
Led wars in victory and defeat
Torn my armor to pieces with quivering hands
Drank poison and its remedy
Seen words on tender
Catapulted through shock
Flown with and became feather
Learned the songs of many tribes
Which season my accent to this day
I have bathed and watched the caked mud
Splatter to my toes
I have traveled many lands
All to just come back to my teddy bear
Upon the orange blossomAs buildings do fall
Their burning death release
Old habits in their wake
For metaphor does know it’s dream
Equates to hidden power
A remembering of old connect
Screams mourn end of reign
Shaking as babe from cold birth
Immunized from plentiful virus
Underground way permitted
Cleansed of wretched hold on desire
To claim address in shattering walls
Terrifying and exuberating
The travel to lands unseen
Accompanied with friendly travelers
And blood of own pristine
Adventure calls the open hearted
Terror but an open door
Leading onto guided path
Relaxing into train of splendor
Giving up steering
Driving no more
Words my own.
When I am feeling tender I go to the only place that can bring me solace, in. Touch hands with my inner child, hold her and let her hold me, love me, mold and paint my face. I find myself by a seaside fire with every age of me up to my crone with their hands on my heart. I let the tears pour as I share this love with myself.
Do you journey inward? What do you find?