Although lightly used, you have a weight in your heart that seeps through. There’s more than I read and a certain kind of longing for discovery. I hope you find the courage to document your way. Even if you don’t find it — most of us are usually on this side of the fence — I hope you realize the potential of the upside of telling your story.
You’re not alone. I can assure you this 110%.
Okay. That was too much. Probably 105%.
I’ve tasted the pangs of despair at the foot of a dying relationship. I’ve crawled in the wake of a broken brotherhood. I’ve eaten the fruit of mentors whose faces I cannot bear to stare at. I’ve doubted the existence of God and pictured the death of my unfinished life.
I’ve also tasted the feast of true joy. I’ve slept with kindred spirits and laughed, sounds resonating across time and generation. I’ve witnessed the generosity of strangers and the kindness of family — blood and friends.
I know this : there will be ups. There will be downs. There will be joy. And there will be sadness. There will be faith, there will be doubt.
There will always be a home for those of us who keep trying.
Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the acknowledgement of fear, and the dive to seek the other side of it.