Sometimes, it is wiser to be silent, even if you feel you have something to say.
Don’t be afraid of thinking and questioning.
It is easy to regret words rashly spoken. It is also easy to regret silence when something needed to be said.
Tradition is important, but it can still be wrong.
Some well-intentioned people may discourage you from expressing your questions, thoughts, or doubts. They may make you feel guilty for having them. God is not one of those people.
There is so, so much we don’t understand. Don’t be quick to say you do.
Pride is your worst enemy. Sooner or later, it will absolutely humiliate you.
Think boldly; speak carefully.
You don’t have to go on a life-long search for significance. You don’t have to “make something of yourself.” Your life is already significant by default. You matter, no matter what you do.
To be continued… (for the rest of my days)
I find my voice
When the world is hushed
but the crickets sing
And my mind quiets down enough
to discern the mumblings of my heart
And the stumbling, stuttering phrases
march forth like ragtag soldiers
and try their best to hold formation
The sun shouts, but the moon whispers
And in the muted symphony
I can hear my own strains
Solemn or frenzied
Melancholy or wild
In the stillness
I find my voice
My clothes smolder
My hair is singed
I have stepped close to the fire
and it burns sweetly
I taste the tang of metal and heat on my lips
Is this the taste of holiness?
The shimmering air sears my throat, my lungs
I breathe deep
The past is gone
But the memories are strong
Move forward, into the flames
One step, two
I am a coal-walker now
And the memories begin to slough off
I shake my shoulders, toss my head
And they’re gone
I rise, a spark swirling into the night sky
I am no one
I am anyone
A new creature, reborn, remade!
And then I wake
I am myself
All of me, still here
And the memories sit heavy on my chest
Look down into my bleary eyes
The truest knowledge of a thing
Comes from being without
For who would notice certainty
If they’d never tasted doubt?
And how much sweeter, cleaner
Is the first fresh breath of air
To one who endured till the dawn
Through a bleak night of despair
To rise again most gratifies
The one who farthest fell
Could we recognize a heaven
If we hadn’t passed through hell?