3.8
July 28, 2015

We Blossom in Struggle. {Poem}

Eating fruit

Life hurts, stings, makes us bleed and cry, just as much as it makes us smile.

Struggles creep into our hearts after midnight and scare the crap out of us.

Will they kill us? Annihilate us?

Yes, but not in the ways we think.

Let’s sit down, put our feet up and settle into the thrashing rivers of our suffering.

Dance in the muddy puddles of our pain.

Walk alongside our fear.

And hold hands with our sobbing misery.

It’s okay to hurt.

It’s okay to fall apart.

Stay with yourself. Be patient. Be gentle.

You will survive so brilliantly.

Because you were not placed on this planet to walk around with a smile permanently pinned on your face.

Nope.

You were made for greatness; to lick the stars and kiss the moon; to experience despair, anxiety, joy and everything in between.

This life—it’s just as brutal as it is beautiful.

There aren’t any quick fixes. Or easy answers.

Why?

Because we don’t need them.

We are stronger and wiser than we’d ever dream—all the answers we need live within our own hearts.

Let us not be so desperate to always be comfortable.

Discomfort is a gift, struggle, a giant blessing.

In struggle, we blossom: it’s where all the juicy magic happens.

We crumble and crack and shatter until we can’t crumble or crack or shatter anymore.

We hit rock bottom—and it hurts—it hurts like hell.

Thud.

Then, just when we think we can’t survive a second more, we rise.

We sprout upwards, raw and new, stronger and bolder than ever before.

Sparks fly as we burst through the cold, dirty ground and feel the warm sun kiss our cheeks.

We unfurl, slowly, magnificently, into the brilliant flowers we were meant to be.

Yes.

Struggle is sweet and powerful and delicious.

It is sacred fertilizer for our souls; purifying cleanser for our hearts.

Let us not always run from shitty days and crushing weeks and painful years.

Let us cultivate the willingness to be uncomfortable.

Let us be brave enough to sit in those terrifying moments dripping with juicy suffering.

Those moments are gems.

Rare, glittering gems.

Let’s taste them on our tongues.

And bite right into them.

And nourish ourselves with every ounce of their raw, transformative power.

~

Author: Sarah Harvey 

Editor: Caroline Beaton

Image: Wikipedia commons

 

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