There will be no shortage of challenge and I must expect the strain of the day before it begins, and I sit with weight of walking not rushing to outrun the silence but allowing it to wrap around me like a cloak
There will be no shortage of challenge and I must expect the strain of the day before it begins, the world waits beyond the walls loud and unfiltered ready to press itself against me without warning and apology
There will be no shortage of challenge and I must expect the strain of the day before it begins, so I remind myself that I must not meet its force with resistance but with an understanding that does not bend or break…
There will be no shortage of challenge and I must expect the strain of the day before it begins, it rushes ahead full of sharp corners and voices raised not in joy but in defense of ego, need or fear
There will be no shortage of challenge and I must expect the strain of the day before it begins, and I expect to change for me it to soften simply because I ask it to but still remain disappointed and off-balance
There will be no shortage of challenge and I must expect the strain of the day before it begins, I have learned not to plead with reality to be something gentler than it is but instead to sharpen my own clarity…
I will not make their inner chaos burden to carry or interpret as my fault but I say loud enough that can hold fast, some days they who move through the day with sharp tongues, selfish hearts, or eyes clouded by pride or pain they will realize
I will not make their inner chaos burden to carry or interpret as my fault but I say loud enough that can hold fast, they will interrupt, accuse, or pretend because they believe that’s what strength looks like
I will not make their inner chaos burden to carry or interpret as my fault but I say loud enough that can hold fast, but I will no longer mistake their behavior for a personal message or a reflection of who I am or what I deserve…
They can throw their darkness in my direction but I do not have to let it touch who I am and in the moment I am untouchable, I remind myself that harm is not what is said but what I choose to believe about myself because of it
They can throw their darkness in my direction but I do not have to let it touch who I am and in the moment I am untouchable, no one can stain me with their ugliness unless I press it to my chest and wear it like it’s mine
They can throw their darkness in my direction but I do not have to let it touch who I am and in the moment I am untouchable, I am not their enemy nor their savior but I am simply a witness passing through the chaos like the truth brushing against me and asking nothing in return…
When I stand in bitterness, jealousy, arrogance I do not absorb it like a sponge
I’ve learned that proximity does not mean participation and it does not require my involvement
They are afflicted-not by fate, but by choice repeated so after the became invisible to them
To blame them entirely would be too easy but to excuse them would be dishonest
