What do I want to write about? Truth-the taste of it. Dripping from salted, trembling lips-the kind that moves mountains within us. I want to talk about what It’s like to feel like you’ve hit “rock bottom” only to see the bottom is lined in golden foil and somehow light keeps getting into this darkened room that doesn’t quite live up to it’s reputation.
I don’t want to write about human perseverance, we eat that shit for breakfast. Every morning there is something in us that says “yes” to the mystery of it all. And so, we step into the day in unwavering devotion.
Its more about what you do when you’ve had to fold. It’s what you do when everything seems to be telling you to STOP but the momentum for more, next, different, still swells in tsunami force within your quaking heart. It’s what you do to slow down long enough to count each line in the road, sometimes each crack in the pavement and trust that this will lead you, still blinded by the unknown.
I want to write about coming home. Coming home to your voice, your truth, and the echo of all that was and is no more. I want to write about coming home to you, only to realize that you’ve been “it” all along.