Maybe some writing will clear my mind.
I can’t seem to let go of my worries or fears or failures again tonight.
I’m so tired that my eyes watered all day.
I’m so tired that I couldn’t really nap, but I couldn’t really be awake either.
Everything feels fractured and laced in the wrong kind of darkness.
The night is full of miracles and stars; the moon whispers through the trees until it gets so big and bold it’s shouting stories into the windows. Critters rustle the leaves just enough to keep the cats at the window and it’s just cool enough to keep the windows open so fresh air can flow through the house. Nighttime prayers sometimes drift out more easily—especially the ones for those we love or for those we don’t trust at all.
Unfortunately, as the darkness deepens so do our thoughts. Our fears rise as our need for sleep creeps closer. Our worries find fertile ground in minds preparing for dreams. This means that for some of us elements of depression and anxiety fight to overtake our sleepiness and good sense. Some nights, the battles are won by sleep and peace and love. Some nights…not so much.
I always know I’m not doing enough…
I’m certain I’m not enough…
The taunts of childhood and the failures around me are confirmation enough.
Fortunately, I am not only my failures.
I am my compassion.
I am my hopes.
I am what I pour into my classes.
I am the person who listens (& who sometimes needs a listening ear).
I am my bad jokes and momentary wit.
I am my stories.
I am my ability to learn and to do better.
I am living my faith instead of waiting for death.
I am able to live love.
I. Am. Still. Here.
And I am so grateful…
Don’t give up when the world feels like it’s crushing. Don’t let go of yourself when the water is above your head. Don’t be afraid to reach out, to ask for help—yes, it’s easier to give help, but it’s strong to accept help. We all need to be brave and reach out from time to time.
Sometimes, this is what reaching out looks like…throwing words into the night.