I come away with a tangled knot of all the things I said and forgot to say. It takes me a while to recover. So, I unravel here, in this way. Blinking curser to prompt the way. And I watch as words are rolled out line by line from the overflow of my own heart. What is it about laying tracks of my own emotions and thoughts? A way for me to tangibly see myself?
I wrestle inside with what to do and how to manage and be all that needs to be done and managed and been. And that tangled knot gets tighter inside.
So much that I am not. But trying to be never makes it so.
Unravel and come unwound. All you expectations. Hear what I have to say for I do not belong to you. You’ve got it backwards. Goodness makes for good works. Not the other way around.
And my goodness doesn’t come from me. Thank goodness.