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January 27, 2021

The Summit of Ourselves

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.

We’re asked to mount with no training at all

Only the direction of 2+2=4 and Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

We’re asked to evolve without the definitions

read without glasses

and write without pens.

We’re asked to love others when no one has showed us the way

to hold machetes out in front of us to clear a path

but be careful not to hurt anyone!

I know there will be damage

I know there will be deaths

Dear One, I know it isn’t easy. I know it seems down right impossible

but girl, it is worth it.

You spend your days waiting, watching, forming in the enormous windows that cradled our childhood

Second guessing every step

waiting for someone to point out your mishaps

inevitably it comes, stronger than your own brain and heart prepared you for

and in this, you believe they are right “you aren’t enough.”

Dear one, you get up and get out

over and over

watching nothing but each laced up high top

marching persistently into the unknown

searching for something known

You cry by those windows, watching cars pass by

hoping one will turn into your driveway

waiting for tire to hit gravel

heart to hit soul

and for all your longing to be pulled out through presence.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, go the cars

like each one isn’t equipped with the brake technology

that would turn them into my sunshine.

Dear one, I remember those big moments

where you were unsure of how to go forward

where there were more questions than answers

more pain than sunlight

more tears than calm

But that was before

and this is after; hold on.

You have wrath that boils your bones

heats them up hotter than

volcanic core

rooted from each moment your desires were washed away

and replaced with hers, his, theirs, ours; anyone’s.

Dear one, most of the time the soap was in your hands.

You walked tall through the maze of unprecedented tragedies

and triumphs

Working hard to listen inside

even when everyone was screaming

even when no one was talking

even when you weren’t sure there was a tomorrow

You got up every day not knowing what would help

maybe a dinner

maybe a roof seltzer

maybe a hike to celebrate the tragedy that now defined our lives

the one that created the thought “there is only after”

Dear One, you survived the life altering moment you weren’t sure you were going to

with the understanding to feel the joy straight to the bone—don’t let one ounce go without a molecule of “you” attached.

That shit is gold.

With the understanding that sometimes there is no understanding. Not fully. Not without your muddling perspective.

With the understanding that sometimes bonds break. And if there was any time for a bond to break, it would be this one.

I know we mourn this one deeply. Daily.

but you survived.

You tried on love.

Sometimes it didn’t fit but mostly you were jamming your legs into arm sleeves; unwilling to see your mistake.

The next time you chose a friend. Thinking that the double relationship statues would lead to your forever ideology. It didn’t.

But you woke up and kept going

day after day. Until 5 years later you woke up on the other side of the bed wondering if you were always here or if you thrashed and kicked your way over to this new cocoon. The later…most likely.

Dear One, you had a hard time picking love.

You reacted to the first glance your way

turning your entire heart to the direction of their head nod

Open, boundless but laden. Heavy. Suffocating.

But we stepped out. And got better.

We stood in our pain and shed it without need

We prayed to the limitless amount of wide open space dancing with our ancestors here to watch over.

“Honey” they say “Honey, hold on. I am here”

We glanced up, yelling into the abyss “I AM HERE I AM HERE”

Hoping the reverberation of our vocal cords would travel through our entire body and convince us of our existence.

You’ve searched for every answer written in the still of the moonlight,

Dear One, I know you felt the most alone in those moments

knees to ground, eyes to sky waiting for relief to pour out of a star

Waiting for the tightness of life to subside

to make room for all that you know you are and can be

Waiting for your life to begin, for it to happen to you—for you

Frozen in ambiguity and fear.

Dear One, I am here to tell you, it is your choice. Your choice to live, to die, to breath, to create, to love, to yell, to laugh, to cry.

I am here to remind you to go to the moonlight

Turn your head up to the wondrous unknown

and choose

it is yours after all.

Dear One, I wish I could say it gets easier. I wish I could say you’ve made it

To where, I am unsure.

But if the destination is here? Then yes, my dear, you have made it.

To diving headfirst into your foundation and ripping it apart

throwing things out that don’t belong and replacing it with things that you choose

To slashing through agreements made in unconscious moments

that only bound you to unwanted outcomes.

To questioning every relationship

To stripping every unfounded belief

To exploring the frontier of your self

uninfluenced unmarred untainted by external forces.

Alone, you traversed the dark pits of your holiness only to uncover the multitude of beings

Cheering, hoping, wanting, loving

all of who you are, all of who you’ve been, all who you ever will be.

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