all we ultimately have is choice.
and the only one worth making is about value. the real kind.
the kind measured only in that delicate brightness of spirit.
a brightness that is sometimes small, and quiet.
and sometimes exuberant. extraordinary. breathtaking.
however tested, weary, disheartened we may be; however disillusioned or tattered; whether we believe or don’t believe, or just believe a little…
the choice remains. to stay. a little luminous.
to allow, just a little brightness, and let the child within guide…dancing, as the child does…on those perilous paths we fear might be ahead.
that sometimes we are so drained we can barely breathe, let alone prance around as if with sparklers in our souls, chasing stars…
but it is the only way. this, this brightness. always.
it is the hardest, hardest thing to pull off.
but it is simple.
because the alternative…the dragging of darkness through darkness, the forging of more fears to carry the ones that have grown too heavy to walk on their own…
that is complicated work. ugly work. deadly work.