The Truth

Pieces They Left Behind

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Last April, I participated in the scintillating madness that is the April A to Z. I accepted the challenge to write 26 posts, each corresponding with a letter of the alphabet and now I’m going back for more. For my A to Z 2016 Challenge I am combining my love for visual and musical storytelling with my passion for words.

I’ve been experimenting with poetry for a little over two years and while the adventure has been wonderful and reviews have been encouraging, I know that many of my poems don’t reach the emotional depths I would like them too.

Here in this space I write a lot about honouring our emotions, about allowing ourselves to sit with the darkness, kicking at it until it bleeds light, but truth be told, the complete vulnerability and surrender that any sort of healing needs, is still difficult for me to give in to.

It is my intention with this year’s A to Z to reach deep down to the dark, murky, frightening depths with both hands and pull hard against what needs to be uprooted, clearing away the weeds and plastic debris that are stunting my growth. It is my hope that by April 30th, I would have come to a greater understanding and acceptance of the dark emotions I keep at bay and become more welcoming and appreciative of them.

My A to Z Blogging Challenge Theme:

Pieces They Left Behind: Poems inspired by Movies about Addiction & Absolution

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A New Story

I had coffee with a new friend a few evenings ago. We had a great time comparing our stories and getting to know one another. Later that night, while I was falling asleep, I thought about all that we had talked about. I realized that while I was happy to have shared what I consider to be new stories, I had spoken of the old stories in the same way that I had been for a long time, despite the fact that a lot of time had passed and my understanding and interpretation of those old stories had changed.

I woke up feeling heavy and unsettled and it took me a few days to truly understand why. Even though I had long come to terms with the old stories and have accepted that they are a part of my past, I was still choosing to drag along with me the old heavy, hurtful, angry feelings they once produced.

I made a decision right then and there to choose more. To choose a new story for my old stories. I choose to love that they will forever be a part of my life and accept that they are important to me because they have made me who I am today. And I’m not half bad, when I really think about it.

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