I am tired

I am tired.

Tired of brushing my long hair.
Tired of beating myself up for eating too much sugar again.
Tired of squashing down inconvenient pain.
Tired of using my imagination so that I can get through mundane existence.
Tired of being scared of the pull away from mundane existence because it is easier to be numb when some things are so hard to resist.

I am tired.

I have been sharpening my edges, fanning my ferocity, cursing my meekness.
All to be strong.
All to be fearless.
All to be impenetrable.
All to preserve myself.
But I’m tired of being strong.
Or at least I’m tired of the ideas of what I think it means
to be strong.

I am tired.

Of rituals and contrived mindfulness (it doesn’t work that way!)
I am tired of filling the void so that I don’t have to free fall.
I am tired of theoretically engaging with love and trust and courage as though they are mere concepts…just to keep me from really experiencing their reality.

Because I am tired. And I am scared.
And I am scared of the nothingness which may lie within me.
I am searching. I am clinging. I am desperate.

And yet.
There’s always a yet; a need to find the light.
The happy ending. The turning a corner. The resolution.
Because I don’t want to be another sunken ship.
Another burden on already weary shoulders.
Another problem to be solved…there’s already enough of that.

And yet…There was a light.
When I ran off a mountain and the wind caught my parachute, there was a light.
A hazy, clouded, misty sun.
It lulled me and caught me in hypnotic gaze.
It held me. Without answers, it held me.
Without clarity, it held me.
Just hold me. Just hold me. Just hold me.

I am so tired.
Just hold me.

To be a child, to be human.

The boy said, “I’m good at making friends”
And the girl said, “To me, being free is to ride wild horses”
The boy said, “Can we stand up and sing?”
The girl said, “I know exactly how to paint this sunset”
The boy said, “I want you to have this flower”
The girl said, “I’ve never had this much fun in the rain before”

I said to myself, “What if they reject me? What if I reject myself?”
I said to myself, “I’m scared that I’m forgetting how to be free”
I said to myself, “I’m glad I’m not the one in love”… meanwhile the truth is I’m just worried I’m not cut out for it.

The boy looked at me, taking me in, and smiled.
The girl took my hand and told me her fears, and I realized I had forgotten something.
I was forgetting that to need others is not to be a child…to need others is to be human.
And maybe I’d been forgetting that I’m allowed to be human.
And maybe I’m forgetting that all I ever will be or need to be, is human.