gently, darling

your thoughts aren’t real

I am grateful for my neuroses.
Patterns and poetry from an old story.
Pages worn. Cover torn.
I am grateful for my anxiety.
How it reminds me my fear of pain.
How it places gentle hands over bruises still healing.

I am grateful for my mind.
Thinking and processing and analyzing all possible outcomes.
Calculating and whirling and coming up with only this:

Gently darling, your thoughts aren’t real.

Those patterns? They are ancient myth.
Those bruises? They aren’t tender anymore.
The shades of their healing show the depths of your heart.
Your mind is power and grace and it expands exponentially when you are still.

Be still, darling. Your thoughts aren’t real.

Gently, darling. You’re here to heal.

Your thoughts: let them teach you to breathe deeper,
ground further, and listen to your heart.
When fear and anxiety arise, remember:
fear is a pathway you must climb and
anxiety is a river you must traverse,
but the river is shallow and the pathway is firm and wide.
There are whole new worlds on the other side.

I am grateful to the ancient myth for teaching me this.
Grateful to the pain, the racing thoughts,
grateful for the fear reminding me:

Gently, darling. Your thoughts aren’t real.
Gently, darling. You’re here to heal.
The present moment is all that exists.
Your present goal is to live in bliss.
A mind that is quiet, a spirit that is still.
A heart that is open, full enough to spill.

Gently, darling. Your thoughts aren’t real.

Gently, darling. You’re here to heal.

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