Start with honesty, slay with tenderness. Your presence is your prayer. See what your body shows up for. This is your life’s encounter with truth.
What you have tried to sustain in earnest that has not born fruit, you have permission now to send it off - out to sea, or down the river, where someone else’s dreams are cheering with wine and celebratory company.
Finally, you’ve come back to your poet’s heart - wet, dripping with vision, cleansed by the rain - but this time you are not sad. This time, there is a smile of gladness, knowing you braved the adventure, and discovered edges of your own becoming, now recognizing limitation as beautiful. This time, you’ve exhausted and retired the story of tucking tails, or needing to be someone else’s hero. This time, you became your own.
You watched with awe all the things you learned you did not want to become, and instead of seeing them as failures, you tipped your hat to the passers by, wearing the clothes of your own dignity and standing in the old place you ever could - in your own shoes.