I can’t seem to get close enough – lest I become petals and leaves – living briefly in a water filled vessel.
Alas, my flesh and bones are such.
I am a flower, this flower is me.
Her mind was a junk drawer. She knew better, but things just piled up. Some useful, most not. It interfered as she would forget the littlest thing going from room to room. Circling, wearing a path into the floor – one might see her limited movements and mistake her for a captive animal. No bars or locks, just her mind and her fears and the element of complacency.
The birds freed her mind from its trappings. From inside she adored them; she watched them through the pane (they came closer this way). Her eyes seized each one like a prize. Over and over she saw perfection in their small beaks and smooth feathers. Always a moment of magic – they existed only for her.
Her childhood was similar, she recalls, getting locked on to things (things of freedom) though never feeling free. Listening to cassettes on repeat while she searched each song for its longing; she found certainty in the repetition and familiarity even at a young age.
Her head burned, begging for fresh air. She felt immobilized -like chains held her to this space. What was this behavior?
Self afflicted bondage? A retreat? It had grounded her, yes, but she no longer had wings. She abandoned them somewhere along the way, clipped them off in haste and was feeling the pains.
It was a lifelong effort growing them back and taking flight again.
Excerpt How To Grow Wings: Awareness by Angella Meanix
the people were individual, though it was a general feeling of being left out
anything could have turned it on – just so happened it was one picture
they presented a million faces and i could only see the one
they broke my heart, mended it and broke my heart again
a feeling of togetherness until everything spilled out
mine was theirs, theirs was mine became you keep yours and we’ll keep ours
once in, now out
Anything born out of fear has an undeniable birthmark.
Insidious, fear will steal your true self, bury intuition and scrap your good nature.
You struggle for sure as it grows … as it reveals it’s limited disposition, but keep it close just in case.
It’s kind of a way out every time you give in; denying possibilities, forfeiting the reigns.
Just be sure to appreciate your hard work of holding it tight and revel in all the ways it’s keeping you down and holding you back.
Big or small – it doesn’t matter.
But, it has to be something you. Something by you, about you, for you, from you.
Don’t overthink it – allow and reveal some natural state you’ve masked or hidden. Find your wondrous self, your wondrous mind, your wondrous laugh, wondrous words — use them again and again.
Know your worth.
Put away all the was, were and I can’t/s. Silence your inner critic, abandon old patterns and counsel your lower nafs.