As much as I hate to admit it I was (and still am at times) the type of person who worried so much that the wrinkles on my forehead had wrinkles.
I got silent when I stressed out or felt anxious and
I didn’t know how to communicate what I needed at that moment because
I was so focused on making everything perfect or keeping the image of looking like
I had everything under control.
It took time for me to realize that I was limiting my skills and my voice and
I was not allowing myself to lean into the experience no matter what kind of
calmness was occurring at that moment.
I had to learn different ways to manage my anxiety in various situations and I’m still learning as I continue my journey of
Part of my journey includes stories that help provide perspective whether it’s from someone I know or a story like The Alchemist.
It gave me a concept to focus on that I can’t explain any better myself.
The secret is here in the present. If you pay attention to the present, you can improve upon it. And, if you improve on the present, what comes later will also be better. Forget about the future, and live each day according to the teachings, confident that God loves his children. Each day, in itself, brings with it an eternity.” The camel driver had asked what the circumstances were under which God would allow him to see the future. “Only when he, himself, reveals it. And God only rarely reveals the future. When he does so, it is for only one reason: it’s a future that was written so as to be altered.”
Coelho, Paulo. The Alchemist
So what will you focus on this new year?
What will you add to your narrative?
Reflect on it.
Write it down.
It was second nature to should on myself daily.
I should look like them.
I should be more of a leader.
I should be there by now.
set the tone of voice and standards of how I viewed life.
Standards became limits and those limits turned to constraints that cut the circulation at the wrists.
Reaching out felt pointless with numb fingertips and the
kept snowballing as fast as my carousel of thoughts.
I think the most annoying thing about anxiety is its weight than can never be measured.
But over time I learned that it can be managed.
I wish there was a science to it or secret tips I can share,
but for now I encourage you to shake off the
and make your bed.
A thirty-second dance party can help.
No matter how the rest of your day goes
say to yourself,
“I got out of bed today.”
with another given day that’s too grand for any short cuts to the kind of happiness you deserve.
The only should to keep in life is a shoulder to lean on until you can be that shoulder for someone else.
Be gentle to your soul and approach everything with love.
I never want to fall in love ever again.
I want to walk in love with confidence of who I am,
with the capacity to love as greatly as I can,
and with a faith so strong that looking back wouldn’t even be a considerable choice.
I want to walk in love knowing that my steps are waltzing beside his
in a pattern that cannot be replicated.
It’ll be consumed by the silent moments
in our road trip to the stars
that will never align since we’ll be making our own constellations
with our fingers intertwined,
inhales and exhales,
and double knotted shoelaces.
I’ll keep walking in love
to the pace of my cautious heart
that swallowed the stitches for each scar to shimmer with a dancing light
and use its story to inspire others because we often forget
that we never walk this road alone
wherever you stood or stand in your lifeline.
as you approach with love,
choose to love,
and live by love.
She felt sad for you
wanting to be that light for you,
but she learned that you can never light a puddle of wax that burned pathways of scars connecting to who you really are
and so she layered her smile
one shade at a time
hoping that each color shined brighter than the last
to compensate the weight of her heavy heart
that melted permanently on her arms so full that sleeves wouldn’t suffice in covering it all.
There’s no way.
No way of knowing her seal of a kiss due to the lip liners of those who deceived her.
It stained so red it disguised as love
as each label rose from one disappointment to the next.
tissues no longer carried her tears,
they smudged away the spectrum of insecurities
until her lips chapped into its honest color –
a natural shade
His name was Bobby and he looked nothing like that cartoon character from Bobby’s World. He was my reading buddy, well, mine and Tiani’s reading buddy. He was the first and only person we both had a crush on. We were living up to our alter egos as Betty and Veronica way before we got into the Archie comic books. Fighting over Bobby as if we had a chance. Anyway, this was back when I was five-years-old. He was in the sixth grade and obviously way out of my league. He probably dreaded reading to kindergarteners while we reacted otherwise. It’s funny how we can remember our first crush. Maybe I was already developing a type I like without even knowing it. Like having an older guy read books to me (bonus points if he’s a Harry Potter fan). One can only dream. But for now it’ll be me, my Kindle, and a fuzzy blanket until someone’s cool enough to join my book club.
Do you remember your first crush?