perhaps love.

Perhaps a little more love and a little less judgement would be enough, with each passing day, to walk a little further with grace and a little more gratitude as the sun rises.

It is three months into the new year, and the world has gone beyond mad. It would be naive to just say that love is the answer, when there is so much reeling from grief, both big and small from a pandemic that in some spaces seem to come to a close, but in others, is just beginning again. I’ve looked away from the broken spaces and the heavy, because if I am honest, I have been afraid to watch and step into again. I was talking to someone earlier a couple of weeks ago, that I find myself reminded of the calling, that I seem to be running away from further and further away, each time it beckons, because I no longer want the responsibility or the purpose, to carry or put myself through once more.

Yet purpose has never truly defined my spaces, more so than need continues to do so. As much as I do not want to hold the spaces I used to, I have learnt, or at least be more aware of the responsibility that comes with the skill and nurtured commitment to see a broken heart mended whole. It was never my responsibility to fix anything, but if anything, make the pain feel a little less alone. The trauma of experience has been real, and it has been weighty. The expense of the undoing of the work has been something I have put off, because of how hard an how essential a tender and constant vulnerability is needed to grow, and push past growth.

The new year and this new season and space has been less about resilience, and more about surviving. To live not for tomorrow, but for today, with each passing hour and minute. I long for the day, where I see beyond the moment again, but with everything, it comes a step at a time, reluctantly at first, and hopefully in time, will grow further in gratitude and peace become something beyond a responsibility.