I surrender.

Three words that hang heavy in my heart,
that struggle for release yet catch on my tongue;
I realise now
after a lifetime of servitutde
the God I served wasn't you.
And now in this lonely place
as the ashen night glides over silver-line skies,
Orion kisses the day good bye
and my yearning for those three words spills over my heart
and on to my lips;
"I surrender all."

Though I know not who you are,
though we have met truly but a few times...
they say you are full of power,
they say you are true,
they say you are a quickened spirit,
that makes all things new.

If this is so,
will you have me?
Would you heal a lopsided girl,
broken for love found and lost,
hoping for resurrection,
who's heart scrapes the asphalt
alongside a weeping man?
I've heard of your deeds,
those suffered for my heart.
Will you coax those little words from me?
Surrendering, a faltering start.


A bird.

A bird.

These earrings, to me, are a symbol of hope. A gift from a friend, an interim dream. A clasped hand, a remembering of what is real, what is possible, what is known. An embrace and an encouragement.

Today I was brave. We don't give ourselves the credit we deserve for our efforts often enough. For some, just getting out of bed is an effort. For others, maintaining a standard of integrity and honesty is an effort. For many, learning to be okay with who they are and what they stand for is an effort. For me, the effort lies in continuing to live in the light and refusing to let the shadows take over my day.

But we take baby steps, we seek support and love from others, we seek to support and love others. And one day we will smile and congratulate ourselves on being brave and overcoming our fears, "our sun will never set again and the moon will cease to wane."

Keats said, “Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?" I find this so comforting. We all seek what it means to be fully human, to understand the world around us and the consequences of our existence. So many people are terrified for admitting that they struggle. So many people get up in the morning and sit in front of the mirror, painstakingly painting on a face of perfection to display to the world. We weave intricate webs, living in the tension between honesty and deception, self-assurance and self-doubt, confidence and fragility. We yearn for the light yet we are afraid of the holes and the imperfections that it will shine upon. And so we live in the middle, hoping for reassurance with lips shut and eyes shining. We are afraid to admit our trials and tribulations, yet we are also aware that they are but a step in our journey towards the common soul, the shared experience.

So here it goes. 

I struggle. 
You struggle. Your neighbour struggles. Mother Theresa struggled. Mahatma Ghandi struggled. Osama Bin Laden struggled. Jesus struggled. Superman struggled! Your children, your mother, your brothers, your friends struggle. We all struggle.

But if you look at the very word long enough; if you roll it around on your tongue, feeling and tasting it's precarious awkwardness, you will realise that it isn't so powerful after all.

In fact, it's a funny-looking word.

Struggle. Struggle struggle struggle. It is merely a verb. To strive to achieve or attain something in the face of difficulty or resistance. An action. An achievable action. A universal action. A common action. We struggle. We overcome. And we celebrate. The we do it all over again having learned some lessons and having to relearn some more. It is but a part of life, a part of the schooling of an intelligence and the creation of a soul.

So let us celebrate the victories! Let us celebrate the milestones and fears that we overcome in order to become better people. Today, I was brave. And that is something to be proud of. What are you celebrating today?