It’s a poison
My mind likes to inject into my consciousness occasionally.
I’ve found the antidote:
With a knowing that all that arises
A passing wave,
Bound to crash and fizzle away into nothing.
A knowing that though everything is honoured—none of it actually matters.
A knowing that just as we do not judge or define the ocean
Based on its waves,
But simply accept that it is forever-changing, moving,
Its essence always remains the same.
I am not my anxiety,
Nor am I my passing emotions.
I am strong and courageous—
For I do not run,
But turn and face my darkness
With no fear.
I love myself fiercely
And will not accept anxiety controlling me.
I remain grateful. Open. Optimistic.
In my f*cking flow.
I remind myself—
I am the sky,
Everything else is just the weather.
And I am