I place my trust in the magic that is about to happen. I am whole again, I no longer fear fighting for what I believe in and the people that I love.
Yes, there will be pain, but what battle that’s worth fighting is free from it?
I’ve become rigid under the thought that Life wavers between highs and lows and that I must simply accept it. There is truth in that, but there is just as much truth in compromise.
To understand that personal utopias are lonely places if we run towards them leaving everyone we care about behind has been the most painful and at the same time beautiful thing that has happened to me.
Memory is easily washed away and I fear this strength might want to slip away from me. Flexibility will be an ally but the discipline to remind myself of this day in every moment will be crucial.
As I write these words, my 82 year old uncle picks up his walking stick and slowly makes it across the kitchen, helped by his assistant. It reminds me of how fragile we are. But I will no longer use that as an excuse to not use the whole of my strength while it burns within me.
I’ve lived my time full of good intentions but with little backbone to make them really happen. Sacrifice and determination are a part of Love. Detaching from the results is important, but full dedication cannot be overlooked.
