To heal

There is no wisdom in a clenched up heart.
No solace or comfort, even, as I had imagined.

I shut my heart out, and I let my brain lead the way.
Somewhere along the way though, I realised I’ve led myself astray.

I hungered for all the answers,
I unpacked the layers, I dug deep
And I found a heart closed so tight,
it would not keep.

So now, I’ve dropped the weight of the questions.
There is no wisdom in a clenched up heart.
No answers or insights, even.

What a relief it is to let more things go,
to watch, observe and be a part of all that comes to be
As a bystander and a participant alike.

Some things just are
It is what it is
It is. As it is.

There is no wisdom in a clenched up heart.
No “right” meanings, even.

I hungered for all the answers,
To know it all, to process it
To do the deep work of fixing.
Only to realise I am magic, just as I am
Nothing is perfect, but nothing needs fixing.

So now, I’ve dropped the weight of the questions.
Because there is no wisdom in a clenched up heart.

And so, I’ve watched how, once closed like a bud
it now has the space to unfurl,
With gusts and bursts sometimes,
Sometimes, nudged on by a sweet breeze
Sometimes, encouraged by gossamer morning light.

Inside, I’ve found a soul of laughter
Held by bones thick with joy
Glued together with layer upon layer of memories.

I peek within, now and again
And suddenly, I am not afraid.

There is space to move
To grow, to breathe, to revel in the dark spaces
As much as to stretch in the sunshine

And every time that I stretch,
My soul expands a little
My bones crack, my skin is supple
My body, it is accommodating
Like a glove that longs to be used.

There is no wisdom in a clenched up heart
It was born to unfurl, to stretch, to grow,
To know that at the heart of it,
this is me.
To go through it all.
To hurt, to crack,
to be stabbed, to melt, and to heal.

Time and time again, to heal.

One years ago: Make me somewhere I can call a home

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