Healing From A Past Lover

Very few people find themselves confident in the face of a question like, "what is love?". They will stagger around for an answer through the evidence of those who made them feel like it was important enough to question it. To them, love is the same as the impact other people have introduced them to and not something they think about alone.

However the entryway, once you have arrived at the door to this question, you must walk through it and explore the space for what it is; a world in which you happily place your favor. Never mind the tragedy that causes you to wring your hands at the sky for causing you to dread your existence, valid those feelings may be, but it is better to go to sleep and try again. To commit your heart to denial is to crucify your mind to the cross of death, even as the seasons pass you by.

Love is gratitude in action, the kind of gratitude that knows the difference between what you are thankful for, and who you are as a human being existing in your own space. Those who enter into your space with nothing but an open heart willing to give have decided that you are the one in which they wish to place their favor: you need only to accept the grace. 

When it comes to love that people feel they need to heal from, they seek to heal themselves as the provider of favor; where their recipient was unthankful and brash, foolishly bruising the altar on which that person was placed. 

They blame themselves for having chosen a receiver who was clearly ill prepared and callous, thinking it was wrong to have placed them on an altar, not realizing that even these feelings belong to those who have a nature to provide. The desire to show your appreciation to that which you love will never be a sin, even as you perceive it to call you to harm, which still is the nature of a provider. 

Provision by itself is not a feminine or masculine trait, it is the responsible trait of those who understand that in order to prepare for the journey ahead, you must obtain that which is able to sustain you over the long haul; this is the sensible logic that you are trying to condemn.

When healing from a past lover, understand that you did not bruise yourself by loving them, even though this is the drone of the mindless who speak before they think. It is your passion to pass on that which sustains; you are a life giver who seeks to give to those who will receive, and you are merely searching for those who approach you with open hands.

And the one who did not love you asked you to force their hand open.    

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Pray That You're Not Special

Pray that you're not special.

Pray that you are not the person the world needs. 

The life of one who is special will seem like a glamourous road. It will seem like a street laden with your favorite jewels. The world will promise you that because you are special you will receive all that you deserve.

And then you will have dirt kicked in your face. And you will watch their face squirm desperately, longingly away from the very things they asked for, that you preciously carried for them.

The world will remind you that it did not promise that you deserved "good" things. 

If you are not special, you are blessed. You have less of a duty to the people but to serve with love happily, thoughtlessly: but the gifted have a duty to the future. 

If you are special, you bless yourself. At every avenue that you turn is an experience asking you to carve it out from its stone and shape it into something beautiful. When the sun sets, you only have yourself to thank for keeping your skills sharp enough to complete the task, and you are paid with leftover pieces to lay down as brick to find yourself again.

There are those who have relinquished their gift for a life of servitude. It is the reason why they have the world and yet are not fulfilled. 

There are also those who have chosen to pursue the future but refuse to serve, and it is the reason why they see no progression... and both of these struggles combined do not amount to the weight a gifted person in their path must carry.

It is a slow walk, a careful dance, a tantric motion that the gifted take from the moment they open their eyes until they lay back down again, and the world still seems to spin ever faster than they remember. Time itself seems to stand against them as shifting shadows track the overarching sun - there is almost no faith to be found in anything or anyone save themselves.  

The gifted drink from their own fountain, draw from their own well. The gifted endure tragedies that the blessed need only cross a bridge to survive, and some consider the crossing a tragedy. The gifted hold scales and balances far too heavy for the blessed to carry, a semblance of justice to an already outdated system waiting to crumble. 

The world needs the gifted to hold up the corners of the earth to keep the weight from completely crushing its inhabitants, which the gifted would gladly do if gratitude were a daily routine of the blessed. 

Pray that you're not special, if a lack of gratitude would collapse your inner world.

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Where Strong People Go

Strong people do not look for someone to depend on, they prepare and build what they need to depend on in advance.

When strong people feel lost, their sense of stability is restored by engaging the distant edges of their boundaries. That is where strong people find comfort.

Most people would agree that their own ideas of comfort are not related to exploring their own boundaries. However, strong people allow their instinct of exploration to flow into the realm of comfort. It is there that they find remnants of themselves that otherwise would have been left undiscovered and hidden from the world. 

Strong people are lonely because they often challenge their concepts of comfort around those who do not. 

And so begins the journey of the strong.

Strong people decide on the type of journey they embark on before they leave their nest. They take just as much mental inventory as they do physical inventory. Every comfort they currently have is the way they measure the requirements of that journey. 

Most of the weight a strong person carries is in their hearts, rather than their hands.

To strong people, home is that weight. 

It's easy to imagine why the emptiness of a room is felt when a strong person exits that place. They carried home into your front door, placed home gently onto your shelves, sent home up in the air with laughter, held home with you in between their arms, and shuffled home out the door as it closed behind them. 

Strong people do not encounter others with the mindset that one day they will have to depart, it is likely they would disagree that "this will be the last time".   

Strong people know that "now" is always the last time, the first time, the next time, the right time, it is all a convenience of imagination. 

Fear for a strong person is having to wrestle home away from those who would overstay their welcome.

Anxiety for a strong person is having to decide between progression and communion, between advancement and contemplation. They already know the decision they are going to make, but in the face of an enforcer, home becomes a battlefield. 

Strong people are not strangers to war; they remember every detail of their own internal siege. They recall every missile in the form of self-deceit, every grenade blast of denial, the deafening rattle of the rifles that laid their life to rest with the hopes of a brighter tomorrow and colored the skies with agony and grief...

They have not forgotten.  

Where strong people go when all the lands are finally at peace, is where they always would have gone: to the edges of their boundaries, with home in their hearts, and to the horizons with hope of a brighter tomorrow.

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