lately, i’ve been mired in what i can only call despair. most days i wake to a sense of paralyzing dread, reeking of unwashed misery. my paved-over pain rises in the night and strips me bare, like sugarcane that’s been through the juicer. still i wrestle with my insecurities, afraid of being revealed as a paper tiger. try desperately to frame this struggle as yet another plot twist. try desperately. end up asking a friend to pray for me, with all the shame of an atheist.
but at least i no longer swallow my fear. i am in fact divorcing myself from the cult of achievement, learning to let go of immediacy. i take my affirmations home from therapy like party favours. sink into the words, pet them like an animal. i am giving myself permission to be where i am. to not always know. i am participating fully in my pain, but also other moments. the ones where i’m living my ancestors’ wildest dreams, tasting all of life’s ecstasies. i am trusting time’s invisible hand to work its magic without waiting for it. knowing i can meet this moment and more.