11 Jan What Does It Mean to Be Strong
What makes the sky so red?
Why are clouds pink,
the red in the sky dims with the light.
What does it mean to be strong,
I ask as birds fly by,
Taking the thought from my
Does it take strength to keep the pain within?
But I’m tired of keeping it in.
I’m embarrassed to share my body feeling like it’s broken.
Maybe I think it’s supposed to be easy. To be young I should be able to fly.
But that’s not how it goes.
If it’s not this it’s something else, yet we think of the
Physical when we think of self.
A body image to protect, self worth, respect.
I have a body that works. Breathe.
See what’s really here.
I feel the pain, and I want nothing else than to be out of it.
It’s my ego too.
That wants to do it all.
This is one of the greatest lessons I’ll ever learn.
To have faith when I don’t see a way.
To get up, no matter how many times we fall.
We work in progress. Continuous works in progress until the work is done;
What will we remember?
Throughout the day I keep it together, I almost cried at work.
Trying to figure out how I’m in pain in my body just by standing, or sitting.
And there’s a constant mental battle, what else I need to be doing to solve this. And every time I come back, I get that glimpse. That this could be it.
And I believe it.
I seek the light again because I have to find that joy from somewhere.
And that causes me to think about what I have, how this thing that I can’t comprehend might be the weight I carry, the tool that I use to dig into who I am. What I’m made of. The dirt of my soul.
I’m in pain, and there’s a lesson to be learned from this.
I don’t want a lesson — I just want to heal.
And maybe that’s it. I’m already healed, expecting something to change.
And I don’t know if I should talk about it.
Act as if it’s not there.
And I do feel foolish, that I have so much and I’m trying to make sense of this, that it’s a good fucking problem to have and I use it as an excuse to be down, not to others but to myself.
That has made me, I don’t know. Confused.
Because I have people to help me no matter what. But I still feel alone.
On my own with a shadow. Of who I used to be.
Following me. That was me. The kid.
But all we can do is be there, there for it, to go through it together, because that’s life, yet I have more than that, so much fucking more, and I still can’t do it, and there are others who bear the weight of the world on their own and they carry it.
I hope to just be there.
And I have to imagine that one day this pain will be behind me.
I have to believe it. This shit has caused me so much, but it’s given me more.
It’s given me feeling, for other souls, beautiful human beings, who take on more than I ever could.
And that’s what inspires me; that’s what makes me see the good.
This makes me try and understand, just help me see a way.
What others might be going through.
And it’s made me open up my heart,
To the healing love of community.
People, we’re just people.
And we try to be so much more than we are.
But we don’t see what we are. It’s impossible to see.
The feeling of being held.
And when I see people,
Happy people, just living and being happy in the sun,
I’m fucking happy.
Because it shows me how simple life
That we can all feel the warmth of the sun on our skin,
And let it change us from the inside out.
Let it unlock the spirit, the touch of sun
Of warmth after a cold night,
Of spring after being buried in snow,
You’re not the season you’re in.
You have what it takes to keep going. But sometimes we have to let go.
What does it mean to be strong. I hope, sharing.
Maybe I’ve had it all wrong.
Shout out to my fellow Coffee Times editor, Yana Bostongirl; you are the inspiration for sharing the pain I’ve been in for most of my twenties; thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I hope to contribute to this loving community you’ve helped blossom.
Your vulnerability in this piece below is the essence of community, and using the gift of technology to spark the revolution of love for all humans. That’s what these platforms can be, beautiful.