I woke this morning at 4:30am
To a dream of loss, heartbreak & betrayal –

A storyline I lived for years.

This particular one buried
In the inner most recesses of my heart & mind.

Long thought lost.
At best, completely gone.

The dream was a story
Nestled within a series
Of other convergent stories.

As I woke,
I tried gently to untie them.
To pull them apart.

Only to realize,
They’d been cooked together –
All become one.

Even though it’s impossible
And necessary at times,

I try not to recount (distant or more present)
Stories of my life,

Unless I feel I must.

Because replaying them,
Mentally, verbally…

Keeps them alive.
Feeding energy into something
That no longer exists
(Except in our mind.)

There we allow them
To become twisted
In unhealthy, harmful ways.

Swaying us from paths
We were better meant to take.

With each breathe,
We breed fear, pain, disappointment…
Things from which we run
(Or ultimately choose to numb.)

We become trapped by them,
Within them –

Living in a dark empty hole.

We forgot nothing holds power over us
Unless we allow it to.

Even then…
It is always ours to reclaim.

We can choose to use our power for good.

Or…
Slowly allow it to corrode & fade.

To free ourselves,
We must first ask:

Which stories have I allowed to define me?

What would happen if I choose to let them go?

Then…
Begin creating new stories
That lead you towards (not away)
From the direction you want to go.

Ask…
Which parts of myself am I feeding?
What’s the quality of the food?

And…
What parts of myself am I starving,
Smothering,
Allowing to die?

Finally…
If & when they do,
What will life look like to you?

Collapsing old house

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christie
Introvert. Avid reader. Social media shy. Animal lover. Yoga student. Green juice drinker. Whole Foods shopper. Tango dancer...

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