Collection: The Rewrite

If you were to ask me where the light was in my life, I would have told you that the only light I hold was in the souls of my children. For when I had withered away, they were the only thing bringing me back to life. When they were not around there was no light remaining for my petals to unfold, there was no reason for me to exist beyond them. But now I see the light everywhere. It is still a constant in the eyes of my children, the light that emanates from them is the spark of curiosity, reminding me to give them the freedom to be themselves. I see the light as it illuminates part of a tree in the morning light, waking it from its slumber and giving it energy for the day, igniting my sense of appreciation for a marvel that is out of our control. I see the light as it brightens the wings of a bird suspended momentarily in midair, before it regains control and carries on towards its destination. That light teaches me to be mindful, for there is so much to miss and so much to be lost when we are not paying attention. I cannot see the light but I can feel it as the wind kisses my face, a fresher feeling I am yet to find, reminding me that this continual rebirth is necessary, refreshing and essential to feed my inner light. As I allow the sun’s rays to give me energy I can see, I can feel and I can revel in the light that is within me and it blooms each day from within, increasing in magic, purity and spirit as I learn to forgive, release and protect a light that I know will never be lost again.

I hope you know how powerful you are. As you curiously make sense of the unknown, absorbing, noticing, questioning. I hope you know how powerful you are, as your innocence makes the world seem magical. The way you accept us, never trying to change who we are, but instead seeing how you can fit into our world. I hope you know how powerful you are with your limitless imagination and creativity that transcends logic and reality.

I hope you know how powerful you are with your ability to be present, completely in the moment and so at peace with yourself. How your gratitude can make us feel seen, your love and kindness have the purity to heal and your forgiveness, the power to teach. I hope you know how powerful you are when you keep persisting even though I can see frustration slowly taking over.

I hope you know that there is power even when anger and sadness surface, as it is a reminder that you are alive, that you want more, that something is not right or you are still learning. I hope you know how powerful you are when you make connections with the world and you cleverly add another skill, another word, another piece of knowledge into your always eager mind. 

And even though at times it may seem as though your power has gone, the light has diminished and you feel scared, lost or confused I hope you know that your secret power can never leave you. Search deep into your soul for it is there that the light never vanishes, your true purpose, the reason you are here, your secret power is there waiting for you to be ready again. It is your shining glory, your true love, your peace.

Find it again and again until your soul is so embedded into everything you do. Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable, embrace it and when you rise you will be braver than you have ever been. And then when you are ready, show us, let us share the honour of seeing you because I have no doubt that you will fly and in doing so you will make the world smile. 

Was I so insignificant that it did not matter whether I bloomed or not? Was I so meaningless that it did not matter that I withered away? Was my soul not as precious as yours that it did not require tending to? When your desires grew so desperate that your morality wavered, my petals began to fall. Each one crashing to the ground taking a part of my spirit with it, leaving me a little more crumpled and a little more broken, trying to bloom but not having the strength to do so. Trying to give you the air to breathe because I did not want you to wither and fall. I hoped, with the good that was in me, that you would see me too. But you didn’t. With your final betrayal you punctured a hole right through my core and I was left crushed, wilted, with no hope of ever blooming again.

I saw her there, in the corner, hugging her legs, chin resting as though she had given up. I walked over to her and I gave her a hug. A hug I should have given her a long time ago. I hugged her for me and I hugged her for her because she was me and I was her and she was loved and so was I. But she also needed more love and so did I. She needed to know that she was valued, worthy and understood. She needed to know that she was stronger and wiser than what the world saw and the world was just not ripe enough for her yet. She needed to know her power was within her and the story in her mind is not real. I desperately needed her to know so that I would know. So that I could heal, grow, change and reinvent. For she does not realise how strong she is, she does not realise how much I need her right now, how much I need her to believe so that I can believe right now, in this present moment, that I am worthy. That I am enough. There is magic in her eyes. Now if only she could see it, I could see mine too.

I am sorry I took so long to realise that all you wanted, all you needed was to feel safe. To feel safe that who you were was enough. I am sorry that you were not taught about the perfection in you, a type of perfection that is uniquely yours. A type of perfection that has the potential to serve others in the most meaningful way. And no, I am not saying you are perfect, and nor do you have to be. I am saying that you are perfectly exceptional, perfectly imperfect, perfectly you and I am sorry that it took me so long to realise. I am sorry that somewhere along the messiness of our lives I forgot to nurture your spirit, I let it drift away when it needed to be lifted, lifted amongst the heavens to show you your worth. I am sorry that I did not understand how to show you love, instead I let the noise enter and I believed that we were imperfect. But I am here now. I have done the work for both of us. I have dived deeper than I ever have, I have seen you with eyes that have now been nourished with the wisdom of understanding our pain, and in doing so I have uncovered­ our strength. I do not see how we can be broken again, not in the same way as before, because I finally, finally, finally see you. I finally know you and I am finally ready for you to just be you. I can feel your relief, your freedom and I can finally feel your peace. So be you. And when I feel you dancing freely inside, I know that I will be the best version of me.

In my mind it was a meaningless existence. The world around me was moving on, laughing, feeling, experiencing and I was excluded from it all. It felt foreign, like I was spiraling out of control, with no end in sight, no happiness just guilt. Guilt for wishing away my current state, guilt for completely being consumed by my own grief and complete hatred for every moment that I was living. So angry, frustrated and completely trapped. Thankful for nothing except the shower, a place that would wash away my tears and leave no trace of evidence behind. There was a scream trapped inside my head, unable to come out and getting bigger and bigger as each meaningless day rolled past. My eyes were stripped from seeing any particle of joy. Everything, everyone, every object, every word, book, song, show, every word of wisdom was a source of sorrow. There is an end, but you have no energy to hope, so you do not see it. “How are you?” they ask. But how do you tell them? How do you make them understand that there is hatred, sadness and resentment seeping out of your every pore? “Be happy, savour the journey, you are so blessed.” they say. But do they know that this suffering is beyond sanity? Beyond anything you have control over? And so you roll over, close your eyes, resign yourself to this meaningless existence and pray that sleep will come. Only it never does and you lie there spiraling further into the darkness.

If heaven is within me, each step I take would be blissful. If heaven is within me there would be no space for fear to exist. If heaven is within me, my mind would be still, unobstructed and limitless. If heaven is within me, the beauty and the lesson in every moment, every exchange, every word would not go unnoticed. And if heaven is within me, I would have the power to wield a magnitude of love into the world and watch as it multiplies and becomes an unstoppable force. I would no longer be searching for contentment, and in not searching, there would be no home for defilements, and in creating no defilements, my infinite self would be allowed to emerge, and in letting my infinite self emerge, you would be free, released from any entanglements that I had previously knotted between us. In severing our ties, you and I would both be one step closer to being harmoniously in tune with the force of true love and one step closer to heaven within.

You and I made a pact, that as you came to life within me, we would find a perfect harmony. Our heart rhythms began beating together and everything I felt, you felt too. We rewrote the stars with every pulse, entangling our hopes and dreams together and rewriting our stories with each other’s presence. So, when the world shatters around you, I feel it too. My heart is a mirror to yours and I can feel my heart strings tugging on your heart, aching for you to be okay. As the days roll over, I learn to take a step back, to let you make your own mistakes, to let the world teach you some lessons and give you space to become you. Yet I cannot help but notice that the ache never fades. Instead, it lingers on and sometimes becomes unbearable as I struggle to find the higher purpose to your pain. Then the truth about loving a soul so completely and so eternally becomes clear. That undeniably the hardest part about tying our heart strings together, is that when your heart breaks, mine stands no chance and follows in tune.

You cannot tell a flower when it is time to bloom. Or a tree where to grow its branches. You cannot tell the sky to stop crying, it needs to water the garden so it can grow. You cannot tell the sun to stop shining, it continues to glow no matter what. When I stopped telling myself what to be, I grew and the more I did, I became like you. I chose to surrender and the more I did, the more I became like you. I chose to serve and the more I did, the more I became like you. Unencumbered, abundant and wildly free.

Oh, ego you paradox. I used you to construct me yet it was because of you that I lost myself.

I think it is time that you and I sat down for a chat. One of those real chats where you tell me everything, where you journey to those untouched chambers of your heart and I listen. I promise that this time I will listen without judgement and fear so that you are able to tell me exactly what it is you need from me. I promise that this time I will not try to hide your message or disregard what you are trying to tell me. That this time I will try and understand it and not find an easy way out. Whatever you tell me it will be okay, I will not try and change what happened in your mind so that it is less painful. It is finally time I made you feel safe, that I made you feel seen. So please, hold my hand and I’ll hold on until you are ready to let go this time. You can let go when you feel it’s time. I’ll be okay, I know you will not be with me all the time again, maybe you will come and visit, but you will not stay and that is okay. I’m just glad I took the time to get to know you, to sit with you, to understand you, so that we could say goodbye properly.

It is the many shades of the earth that yield abundance for the living. It is the colour of the soil that witnessed the great stories of those who walked before you. It is the colour of branches engorged with the nourishment of fruit. It is so powerful that Mother Nature chose it to be her grounding colour. But on you, it is more beautiful than Mother Nature ever dreamed. On you, it carries a depth that is intertwined with tales of freedom and love, tales of spiritual awakenings, unimaginable riches, music that ignites your soul and acts of unthinkable generosity. It carries a strength that was cultivated from wars and heartache, from grit and perseverance, from loss and desperation. On you, it carries the richness of the stories your people lived, the depth of their knowledge and the wisdom you were given. As you live your story, while honouring the richness of theirs, your colour comes alive, a shade of brown reserved only for you. So unique, so powerful, so special, just like the person wearing it. 

Maybe you had to be broken. Maybe your soul had to be shattered so that it was finally your turn to put the pieces back together again. Just the way you choose to.

Beautiful and wild, yet at the complete mercy of all that surrounds us. Growing from the muddy roots of our past and drawing sustenance from surrounding energy. The real test of any flower is how well we are able to withstand the storm. Are we strong enough to weather the turbulence? When our petals are no longer flawless, do we have the resilience to bloom again? Does our power lie in the torn and delicate petals that now carry an imprint of our courage? How do we embrace our imperfections, our fragility and find our power from within? How can we show the world that a flower blooms by embracing vulnerability and blooming again and again, no matter the weather?