How does one find peace when there is war?
Not a war on foreign or domestic soil,
But a war of one’s own making,
Internal dialogue the catalyst.
This discord happens at delicate points in life,
When standing at a crossroads,
At the precipice of forced change,
When a meaningful metamorphosis is needed.
Knowing evolution is required
Is not enough to quiet the self-chatter
That plays like an inner loop,
Of the uncertainty of change.
Teetering on the edge,
A decision must be made.
Take a stand to fight the disarming talk
Or surrender to it.
Giving up is an option
Only if one relishes being assaulted
By life’s inevitable required adjustments.
No, raising the white flag is not a choice.
Silencing the chatter is.
The Fluidity of Fear
Like a strong ocean current, fear took hold and pulled me out to sea,
The familiar shore of my life no longer visible,
Leaving me adrift in the depths.
The wave of fear rushed and crashed within,
Winding its way through my landscape,
Carving its destructive path,
Corroding confidence, eroding emotions, wearing away wisdom.
It ebbed and flowed around me,
Flooding dark corners of my mind and heart,
Lapping at old wounds, turning the tide of my life,
Damaging every part of me that tried to stand in its way.
Fear ruined me from the inside out,
Leaving me a mere shell of the person I used to be.
I pray I learn to swim in the fluidity of fear before it drowns me again.
During a storm, oaks stand solid, rigid, unwilling to surrender, unable to bend. They are often left damaged, uprooted, unable to survive. Willows dance in the rain, flexible enough to sway and glide as the storm swirls around them. Although blustered and blown, they are usually left standing, undamaged, ready to live on.
When life’s hurricanes challenge you, are you an oak or a willow? Truth be told, I’m an oak, through and through. I used to be proud of this fact until I realized I have a thing or two to learn about weathering life’s twisters.
Let us rise from the ashes-hopeful, strong, ready to begin again