There are things we don’t speak of. We don’t show our fear, our pain, our weakness. Rarely does anyone admit to the rules out loud, but they’re there. Some days they’re louder. The demand for silence deafening such that the heart can hardly feel.
But then you’re alone again.
The silence washes over you. The fear, the pain, the weakness within…they hunger for the space and wander into the void slowly, blindly. Murmuring, whispering, their voices are found. The first wail pierces the sky opening within and the pain is your only clue – you’ve hit your knees as the rain begins to fall.
I admire those who live beyond so many rules. I work on finding where and how to traverse such terrain, so unstable to my sense of balance. Because sometimes, often times, the break and the mess is exactly the strength and precisely the beauty.