For All Those Who Have Been Humiliated

I’ve been holding out

Believing that patience is a virtue

When, in truth, I am beyond frustration

To save you from the offence of having to take me as I am

I died a little every day

I toned myself down, made myself smaller

Dulled it all a little

No stride, no demands

I went underground

Thinking I’d find solace in the subterranean depths

Except: this cannot be contained or constrained

Nor should it be

This is what no-one could see

This is what was hidden

Now, out in the daylight, blinking a little uncertainly

Yet breathing that much more easily

I’m thankful.

All That Matters

You’re here, sweet one

And that’s all that matters

You think you have to be someone

Do something, go somewhere

But there’s only ever this

And there’s only ever you

This is all You ever wanted:

The mere fact of my presence

My sheer existence, nothing more

Whatever my shape

Whatever the skin I’m in

Whichever side of any line I’m on

All the rest irrelevant

I realise that now

All – all – that matters

Is that you’re here, sweet one. 

Home

Yes, yes, I’ll come

I always knew I would

But had no idea how to start

Now, tentatively, I begin

Each step tiny, vulnerable

Faltering, always allowing

For the possibility of falling back

Yet the movement arising within

Knows its own way home

And has no need of a guide

Love beyond imagining

There's Nothing Wrong Here

There’s nothing wrong here

Yes, you’re hurt, but that’s the point

To break open, to give up, to lay down your weapons

Your plans, your strategies, your objections

To finally say yes

It never had anything to do with working it out or understanding it

All you need do is see, and you’re already seeing

How could we have known?

It’s utterly innocent, and devastatingly beautiful

God is this

God is this floor, and this tune, and this cushion, and this nearly-cold tea

This pen, this hand, and this breath

Even the separation was never separate

Even the fading was always in full view

We’ve exhausted ourselves going precisely nowhere

Now we can hold hands and rest

What If?

What if I just let go?

What if all my "this is what you need and here's how to do it" is only fear?
What if all those doom-filled future scenarios are simply the imagination of a scared child?

What if I stop my fixing and organising and helping?
What if I stop pretending there's anything wrong here?
What if none of this is actually mine?

What if I'm heartbroken, ripped apart by the sheer beauty of it all?
What if I'm absolutely as I'm supposed to be?
What if all of this, every last part of it, is totally fine?

What if it's okay to move on, to leave it all behind?
What if there's nothing here to resolve, sort out, or understand?
What if it really is alright, just like this?

What if there's no effort required?
What if there's nothing other than this?
What if there's no reason to develop or change one iota?

What if I just let go?

Such is Grace

You love me so much that You give me everything
Yet still I complain

And You, loving me as You do,
Let me complain
With Your hands held out
Full of offerings

In the certain knowledge
That eventually, the complaining will stop
And I will simply surrender to Your love

Such is Grace

These Books and I

The books on these shelves here, to my left

Once laden with promise, heavy with the hope of salvation

Are no longer groaning under the weight of such responsibility

I supped greedily on those words

Desperately praying that the nectar of freedom

Might be magically conveyed via those pages

To transmute my undoubted suffering

Surely, I reasoned, the answer must reside somewhere in those sentences?

It's been a while since I last glanced across at them

Tonight, I notice some familiar words on the spines

(Mystery, spirit, vastness, heart, extraordinary)

And I see colours – dark blue, black, deep crimson, green –

Against the white of the bookcase

Otherwise, they seem strangely empty, offering nothing

No longer required to hold out hope

Relieved of the burden of redeeming me

These books and I now all free

To simply be what we always have been