hope

The Depths of the Ocean

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Sometimes I am a witness, sometimes I am the mess. But I am in it all wholeheartedly. We hide our true selves so often behind our fear of being seen for our messy selves. In our hiding we hurt each other, in our hiding we resist the pain of vulnerability and miss the gift of intimacy that comes from it. 

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To Trust and Not Fear.

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You can trust yourself until you make a mistake, until your intuition fails you. Until you realise maybe you can’t be trusted to choose wisely who to be vulnerable with. And this, the hardest thing to learn: trust doesn’t look like hope – hope is an altogether different thing.

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The Hopeful Audacity Of It.

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I’m close to throwing a tantrum in the face of the Universe. A grown-up one, with big words and everything. I’ve lived here five years looking at that same corner, same tinny house, same Indian store and all of sudden they’ve opened the door. The hopeful audacity of it. That if you try, they will come. If you stay open and welcoming, people will turn around and look after you. If you fight just a little more, ‘No’ might turn to ‘Yes’. It’s easy to turn my cynicism audacious, to make the Bullshit calls loud and clear. It’s harder to choose a hopeful audacity. A plucky bleeding courage that keeps on playing anyway. A hopeful audacity that compells me to put on my unicorn panties, fight hard tomorrow but not against myself.

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Stuckness Is A Good Thing.

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Being stuck is actually, more often than not, a good thing. It’s an opportunity to call on those we trust and rely on to intervene in our situation. Or to spend some time in introspective seculsion, until we can admit that we just need help to get unstuck.

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