light
March 6, 2015 § 4 Comments
It’s easy to journal the tender moments, uncomfortable to make permanent the difficult pieces of complicated experiences. I am a fractured woman, flawed in behaviors so deeply entrenched in the continuum of my experiences I struggle to claim change even as I aspire to wake up each day a better version of myself. Inconsistent and insecure I contradict myself in riddles of intention.
I don’t wear my awareness or apologies as clearly as defensiveness and joy, anger or disappointment. Even on the most complicated days I wear a mask of contentment to keep my dreams safe beneath the bravado of my pride. It is disingenuine to hide ourselves from the world, to sacrifice the fullness of our offerings by making ourselves small.
Here, where I so often celebrate my experiences of family and self, it feels both deceptively safe and frighteningly necessary to hold a light to the broken places of my story to better illuminate my faith in vulnerability. Today I am wondering at where I can invite light into my day, living more consciously unguarded; stretching myself to claim the space of trust.
scribblechic 
We are all broken, I guess, to some degree.
Acknowledging this though, I think, starts the healing.
I think we all possess emotional fractures that tell stories and that these imperfections, when illuminated, are beautiful scars.
You never know what you might find whenever you shed that light. Some good, some bad, but always opportunities for learning; for new growth.
You are so transparently a teacher at heart, your sight naturally inclined to see the lesson in each experience.