[Inner] Moves.

Maybe stories are just data with a soul. –Brene Brown

I'm not going to lie. It's been a rough couple of weeks around here. My heart has been working really hard to let itself break when another piece of me wants to keep on truckin. It takes a lot of courage to let ourselves feel the pain of any given heartbreak, of any given misfortune. I'm trying to be courageous. I feel fortunate to have my family and friends as beacons of light.

While getting my Masters they used to tell us that we should never tell someone it's going to be okay, and I suppose that's actually quite true. We don't actually know if it's going to be okay for someone else and we shouldn't give misguided hope. But, I don't know, sometimes my heart really needs to hear the concreteness of it's going to be okay…

you are going to be okay…

your spirit will be okay…

you're going to survive…

And while all that assurance is happening, I'd also love to hear that I can surrender my fear and I'll still be okay.

That I can embrace the uncertainty.

That I'll still be okay.

That I can completely fall apart.

That I can take my time.

That I can feel the circling of darkness that will give way to light.

That I can feel sorry for myself and perhaps have an all out crisis of faith.

And even then, I'll still be okay. And then I'd really like to hear that through it all, one day, I'll emerge softer, wiser, more beauty-full.

Because even in the dark I know this to be true: Eventually hope rises up to meet us. It cracks open our hearts to the light within ourselves waiting to be seen, to be born again.
I'm going to be okay. And for those of you struggling, your spirit is going to be okay, too.