“Inner beauty, too, needs occasionally to be told it is beautiful.” – Unknown
Whether it is anger or sadness, it’s okay to bring them here because I know how quiet the woods can get, and it is something you need when you’re looking for a soft place to hold up that will be equally as hard on the things you’re working to change – Yes, I know how quiet they can get, but don’t conclude that it is weak, god no the roots go deep; They hold far more together than the shallow mind will take notice of. You feel it in the gentle echo of brother wind whirling through the lush undergrowth, knocking on the windows of all the forest’s denizens – You feel it like the touch of rainfall through the branches, dripping down the bark and kissing the sacred ground. This is the art of your insides, a mental construction of the temple that is your spirit’s vessel, it is your greatest achievement. This is the story of all the times you drew water from the well, the details of how your hands gripped the rope to your center and gracefully lowered your skull cap down into the depths – It took grit to resist the burning in your fingers, the singing of your palms, but you did. This is that story, this is that little anecdote of the time you gave everything with no guarantee that anything was coming back, and how at times you trembled, but you never gave in. You never needed to be told, you pushed through every step of the unknown path, and only you know what you found; What blessed beauty!
So how dark does it get when only you can see?