There is a battle waging inside of me between the light and the dark, the truth and the stories, the empathy and the contempt, the grief and the pain.
I am more self-aware of this battle than ever before, watching as it wages between thoughts of vengeance and feelings of great love. I am exhausted from the tug-of-war and yet learning so much as I witness rather than judge, express rather than vent, work through rather than spin in the same circles. This is the work of healing, being willing to hold space for all of myself as I work out what is real and what is story.
What is true is that I am wounded, grieving, and very very afraid. Everything else is a question, questions that I must learn to lean into and wait for the answers (that will lead to new questions I will have to lean into again). What is true is that my power lies in my own hands and heart, my willingness to be vulnerable to what is real and rewrite the shame stories that tell me lies about myself and the people I love. What is true is that I always, always come back to love and compassion, even when I’m sobbing in anger and confusion. What is true is that I am held by a small tribe of unconditional lovers as I burn in the fires of transformation.