A Letter To My Former Self

Look, I just want to start by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been away so long. I got caught up in the storm and when I woke the roads didn’t look the same. One of those moments when you are well and truly lost.

I panicked. I cried hard until the calm came. Then that cycle repeated over and over and over. Every still day, ensued by chaos, would leave me looking onto the horizon searching for rain columns. Every cloud shook me. Any slight change of wind blew my hay house away. I spent days gathering the strands in an attempt to weave them back together.

Life doesn’t work like that. Sometimes you have to start from scratch. There is no separate architect, project manager and the labourers to do the work. You are all of those things wrapped into one little human. But I know you can manage. You just need to feel your way through it. It’s all just material.

Whats left when we strip everything away? Who are you? Just a being. Back to square one. Maybe thats freedom: to strip away the shell of societies expectation and explanations. Back to basic. Animals. Except nobody can forget the past, or it’s influence on the fabric of their character. Like slip up lines you can’t rub away. You can colour over them like tattoos of regret, but you know they are still there.

There are things coming that you cannot begin to imagine. There are people to meet, stories to be told, stories to be listened to and stories to be part of. Nobody can see the future but we can have vision, optimism and trust that some force somewhere is guiding us.

But that doesn’t have to be scary. Let the past guide you, not trap you.

 

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