Stuck on a tightrope

Stuck on a tightrope

I’ve stranded myself

in the middle of a tightrope.

Maybe that is where 

you are now…

worn out from 

maintaining the status quo,

but you are frozen in place.

Every muscle works 

at maximum capacity

to keep you

safe, steady, and stuck.

I’ve been there –

working hard

and doing what 

should be done,

but not budging an inch.

Working hard to 

keep balance

even though I can 

see what I want is 

on the other side 

of the chasm. 

There’s a lot of questions

between here and there. 

A whole lot of strenuous,

tedious, teetering steps

to be taken. 

The choice is:

stay or move forward. 

Is it more scary to stay

in a precarious place

and work so hard

to not move at all?

Or is it scarier  

to never know what 

it is like to cross

the chasm to 

dance and

take up your space 

where you belong?

Proceed with fear. 

It is time.

One step, 

then two. 

No more stuck

on a tightrope.

#PermissionGranted

 

 

What will be your one step for today?

Where we come from

Where we come from

When I am driving 

a long distance at a solid

73 miles an hour

I often wonder where the 

cars I am traveling 

beside are headed.

Where are they going?

The car with the license plate

from Maine –  

are they headed

home or are they 

just arriving to their

destination?

I had just left 

family in Charlotte 

and was headed home.

I knew where I was headed

but no one else

driving beside me

knows where I am going.

They might see my license plate

and figure I might 

be on my way home.

But there’s no way to know. 

It struck me then: 

Where we come from

doesn’t dictate

where we are going.

What you’ve been through

doesn’t determine your

destination. 

Our struggles,

trauma,

the addictions we fight, 

and past failures

are not the deciding 

factors of where 

we go in this life.

These are strong influencers 

in our lives 

but they don’t 

get to decide

the end result.

We are meant for

life to the full 

and if that means

you must drive 

in the opposite 

direction of what you’ve 

been through – 

then put the 

pedal to the metal.

Where you and I are from 

may not be 

all that we 

are meant for. 

Purpose,

possibilites, 

and 

passion

await our pursuit.

Turn up the music, 

put the windows

down,

let the wind

breathe purpose into you,

and drive on.

#PermissionGranted

 

 

 

Where are you headed, friend?

Which friends and what resources do you need to help you get to a place of purpose, passion, and possibility?

 

 

 

Let the light do its work

Let the light do its work

I stand in the backyard.

There are more leaves 

on the ground

since yesterday. 

The morning is cool

and so I seek the sun.

I step into the rays

and can’t help but

notice that the

sun is in a different spot. 

The light has moved. 

I turned, to see where it was

that the sun used to hit. 

Ah, yes, that plant

is probably glad 

for the shift in the 

sun’s rays. 

The seasons of the soul

are not unlike the seasons 

of the earth. 

There are times that the 

light shines on one aspect

of life and that which 

is lit up

consumes us for a bit,

holds our attention

in a bright embrace.

And then the light shifts.

That which is now

in the sun’s path

is warming,

becoming pliable, 

moldable,

so that change can happen. 

When the sun shifts off

of one part of who we are,

it is so that it can

cool and harden.

So that

what was once pliable 

can be solid.

So that it doesn’t move. 

So that what we’ve learned

in that season 

can be built upon in

another season. 

What is the light shining on now?

Is it causing you to

squirm,

melt,

feel undone?

This is what growth feels like. 

Let the light do its work.

#PermissionGranted

 

The song of humanity.

The song of humanity.

The trees, the dolphins, and

the mountains call to me

and demand to be seen.

I can’t look away.

The bird’s song,

the breeze, tickling the trees,

the way a flower grows

from a teeny seed.

I can’t look away.

I see their creator in them.

His design, his joy,

his creativity is in the magenta flower,

the succulents, the manatee,

the neon tree frog, and the terrapins.

They sing a song over me and

I am compelled to sing with them.

I want to join the chorus.

What are the notes?

I don’t know their song.

What are the words?

How do I join them?

Humanity has a song, too.

I can hear it

when I listen.

The song is constant –

everyone taking a breath

at a different time.

Some scream to be heard.

Some sing into a void

where no one listens.

Some are making their

own stages.

It’s hard to listen to the song because there’s

so much to grieve,

so much hurt

and righteous anger

in the song.

So much so that sometimes I try to silence it.

Headphones on.

Head down.

Just make sure

all is well in my house –

that everyone under my roof

can sing.

But.

My song is the song of humanity.

My voice is meant to be

heard and it is meant to

amplify the song that

others are singing.

I can’t not listen to their song

and there’s no other song

for me to join in on.

I can’t look away.

They demand to be seen.

I can’t look away.

I see their creator in them.

His design, his joy,

his creativity is all

over us all.

My voice must add to

their song of long-awaited,

the-time-is-now

justice.

Otherwise,

I

am

just

noise .

#PermissionGranted

 

 

What hope feels like

What hope feels like

The pitch darkness

makes her stumble. 

It doesn’t matter if her eyes are

open or closed – 

the light is the same. 

She keeps to herself, 

keeps herself small

so that she doesn’t 

end up with bumps and bruises.

she shuffles imperceptibly.

Her lack of confidence is

because she is 

swaddled in uncertainty. 

Her movement,

her thoughts,

are 

stunted,

stagnant.

Her dreams – 

vacant.

What ifs

keep her a prisoner

to what has always been. 

She sits and waits for…

she doesn’t know. 

She waits but 

doesn’t know why…

an invitation perhaps?

An invitation to leave

the dark and  

cross the threshold 

into brave.

Will it ever arrive?

Whatever it is?

This waiting game

is draining life from her. 

She crashes into the nightstand

and hears a

rolling in the drawer. 

She grasps in the dark

and pulls open the drawer

and shuffles through madness.

Her hands find round, tapered. 

Her heart skips a beat. 

Is this what hope feels like?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her hands flit around the item

and she knows, she just knows, 

it is a candle. 

She reaches into the drawer again,

in search of matches. 

She finds a box.

She lights the candle.

Holds her breath.

And she can see. 

And she remembers.

She remembers the invitation

sent long ago. 

She remembers who she is. 

Ahh, yes.

This is hope. 

The small light gives her enough to see

and certainty takes root in her heart. 

The small light is like a

spotlight on her soul.

It stirs dreams, 

stokes hope,

and she believes that there’s 

possibilities for her 

beyond this smallness

that she has been relegated to. 

The light reminds her 

of her worth, 

enables her to see

the door to the room 

she has been shut in for so long. 

She turns towards the door

with steps of purpose.

She turns the knob and 

steps into brave –

taking the candle with her.  

#PermissionGranted

 

 

Are you in the dark, friend?

Find truth, seek light, and remember that you were made on purpose, for a purpose.

Are you hiding in darkness?

Cling to light and step into brave.

Speak for maximum impact.

Speak for maximum impact.

Some things just

need to be said. 

They don’t need rehearsed –

there’s no time for that. 

If the passion is now –

the time is now. 

So often the space when 

something needs to be said 

is a small gap in time – 

and once it has passed

the opportunity for maximum

impact has also passed.

If you wait –

it may be too late. 

When we wait for 

an invitation, 

wait for more research to be done, 

hope for the right time, 

write draft after draft, 

jockey for position,

for platform… 

We miss the opportunity that 

needed our voice –

It’s gone.

And those who may have gained

strength, peace, or freedom

through the impact of our words

will never receive the power

of our words.  

When your heart feels

like it might burst, 

when hope is blossoming, 

when peace includes a fight, 

when truth requires armor, 

when fear and bravery hold hands, 

when passion can’t be contained – 

Speak.

#PermissionGranted

 

 

Are you holding back on speaking up, speaking out?

Are the words you keep within you blocking purpose, passion, and possibilities – for yourself or others?