When My Fears Are Loud, Stillness Speaks

I rest beneath the trees.

They are my family, you see.

Overwhelmed was me

until I remembered,

and rested once again beneath the trees.

Life has a way of breaking us open.

Bare feet planted firmly on the grass,

as though to anchor ourselves by sheer force of will.

Pretending to be rooted like the trees,

dancing confidently with their glorious umbrellas of leaves,

waving, swaying,

no thought, just flow.

But for most of us, quite the opposite is true.

Filled with conditioning

and conditional love.

No wonder we never established roots.

Remember that:

Not all weight is ours to carry.

Not all sins are ours to bear.

Not all thoughts are demons.

There are those who choose to hate.

Let them hate.

And continue to live your life.

Observe others, understand ourselves.

Judge others, betray ourselves.

Our thoughts become our master, creeping in like restless waves,

enveloping the unsuspecting

softly at first,

then under without hesitation.

Be still.

Observe thoughts.

Acknowledge presence,

And be sure you don't allow your mind's restlessness to envelope you.

---

Those vexed by our existence

are not here to stop us from living authentically. We are going to do that ever more fervently because they are our shadows.

Their presence our reminder.

Their hate edging us closer to the truth of who we are.

Their rigid beliefs and broken systems are reflections of the past versions of ourselves that were stuck in the lies too.

---

♡ Pause for a moment of gratitude.

What if they were me and I was them?

Who are we without one another?

Who am I without you?

---

And yet beyond the trees,

walls are built to keep us small.

People in pews and at pulpits

living in the boxes

built for them.

Boxes designed to keep people afraid.

Reinforced

by half-truths, countless rewrites, and controlled narratives and mistranslations.

Truths and lies woven together.

Stories bent for control.

We know this is the case

because we see humanity as it is today.

Why keep digging our heels

into the past?

Why not paint a picture of the humanity we want to see?

We are the history makers.

We are the present moment.

We are the art, the dance, the song,

the vibration.

Or we can keep reflecting on the past,

burdened by busyness,

by frustration,

by old collective mindsets.

Fear is a traveling thing.

It slips from strangers’ mouths,

from headlines,

from the noise of those

who do not know our name.

Fear settles on the body.

It lingers on the skin.

It grows from the soil of ancestors,

bearing fruits of pain and shame.

But these are not ours to bear.

I can say no thank you.

I can call my energy back

like birds returning to roost.

I can cocoon myself in what is mine,

let fire burn illusions to ash,

and rise again

not with answers,

but with authenticity.

Softness. The world told me it was weakness. But water knows otherwise.

Rivers carve canyons.

Tears wash grief clean.

Whispers carry further than shouts.

Fear is not the gift.

Love is. Clarity is. Strength is.

Stillness first.

Stillness is where fear dissolves.

Stillness is where you remember.

Say this aloud, so your bones can hear it:

I call my energy back to me.

I release what is not mine to carry.

I stand in love, not fear.

I live what I say I am.

Softness is strength.

Authenticity and love are my roots.

I am still. I am love. I am free.

The ancients already knew this truth...

Nothing in the world

is as soft and yielding as water.

Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible,

nothing can surpass it.

The soft overcomes the hard;

the gentle overcomes the rigid.

Everyone knows this is true,

but few can put it into practice.

Therefore the Master remains

serene in the midst of sorrow.

Evil cannot enter his heart.

Because he has given up helping,

he is people’s greatest help.

True words seem paradoxical.

• Tao Te Ching, ch. 78 (Translation by: Stephen Mitchell)