Letting go


On this shortest day of the year, 
The northern winter solstice,
I take a long look. 

I see the world driving by
Frosty and dark
Cold and stiff, but flowing

Everyone, just passing through. 

Another minute, another day, 
Another year. 
For some, it repeats and repeats. 
Like a carpet worn down by walking 
The same path over and over. 

That’s so easy. 
Lifeless humanity. 
Mindless. Survival. 

But I want more. 
To be Alive. 
Reinvention. Thriving. 

The day, the number, 
The calendar is insignificant. 
The intention isn’t. 

Strength, courage
Repeated counter intuitive willingness
To move, to morph. 

I am as fluid as my stories, my thoughts. 
Let them not become a fortress
I build for myself and reinforce.
But a supple fabric
Woven by the core of my 
Best humanness. 

For I know I am just strings of cells. 
Constantly changing and regenerating. 

I am who I create. 

Only through daily practice
Letting go
Of who, and what was.  

I am who I am becoming.

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