context.

i’m in a leveling-up battle right now— my soul battered + bruised + oh-so-very-tired from the taxing expense of fighting for the blessing. but i made some good gains yesterday. + i awakened today with fresh Hope.

i am experiencing new emotions in this fresh season of Life. like healthy loneliness + sick guilt. i think a part of this condition is the common “empty nester syndrome.” — bizarre + new. yet the unfolding makes sense.

sprinkle in the waves of grief that come after the loss of a close-Loved-one. my Daddy has been gone for eight months, and the sadness that floods in cannot be contained. the sadness sits on my being like an elephant on a canary— crushing the breath out of my lungs + what feels like my bones. thankfully, she only stays for so long before she’s gone again— and i am left to unruffle my feathers and fly.

my grief in this fresh season is teaching me to be a better human.

a human with real feelings. and real needs. and real boundaries.

i am learning now, at fortythree whole years old, to be a better no-sayer.

because somewhere along my lengthy fundamental-indoctrination timeline, i was programmed to believe that kindness equals toxic-people-pleasing and vice-verse. that kindness is a sugary sweet smile, as the crowd rips and steals and greeds. that kindness is biting the tongue until it bleeds, to protect an assailant from being offended. that kindness is making the self tiny so that those who are tiny can feel powerful.

when in reality, kindness is Truth.

and anyone who has ever participated in the Truth Life knows that being a Truth-bearer never mixes well with being a people-pleaser.

i think this all points to my observations about fake vs. authentic, too. and how this modern society of rituals and media-mind-control is far more concerned with how cool and rich and popular you look versus how honest and hardworking and kind you actually iz.

you see:

one only looks good; the other actually is good.

let that one sink in.

. . .

i got called some names yesterday, as a part of the leveling-up battle i began today’s writing about. i haven’t been called names to my face (or my phone’s face) for quite some time. part of it felt whimsical— a mostly-forgotten-about childhood game, beckoning me to play once more.

but nay. i didn’t succumb.

not yesterday. not today. not tomorrow. so help me God.

. . .

instead, my kindness patiently says:

“

i forgive you, but i will not participate in such foolishness. nothing good ever comes from name-calling. it’s simply a mirror-reflection of your own inadequacies and insecurities. i hope, one day, you can face yourself more courageously. but until then, you no longer have access to my care.

”

vs.

that evil, toxic, people-pleasing programming:

(a panicked, high-vibrational sensation in my upper chest with an equally panicked inner dialogue) i should repair the broken relationship right this instant before anything bad happens to either of us. i must take full responsibility for my part in our discord. i must sacrifice my own protective and Divine hedge of Truth for the gratification of the slayer. i must seek instant peace.

read also: a trauma response.

read also also: i can’t do it anymore.

. . .

all things in context, i suppose. but the nitty gritty details are where the Message often gets lost. my ambiguity is simply my artistic attempt to allow plenty of space for your own circumstances to fit into my thoughts and make them your own.

but know this— i have had seasons of meekness and timidity, but this is not one of them.

so if you come at me in an attempt to disenfranchise or disempower me, i will expose you to The Truth. and you will be changed. and you will be uncovered.

that is all.

i Love you very much.

always have. always will.