I keep returning to the girl in the grave.
Gray and without breath.
With armor to protect her heart and masks to wear for any occasion.
She knows the intrinsic ways of each role she is expected to play.
I resurrect her when I fear love.
She knows how to get through this life.
Stay safe. Remain small.
She knows how to keep people just outside her castle wall.
She carries the weight of the world.
I am to carry the weightlessness of Love.
Her mind is filled with screams.
My mind is to be filled with song.
She lives in the land of sorrows and shadows.
I am to live in the Land of the Living.
Death is on the prowl with a malevolent eagerness to subdue my truest self.
There is a Redemptive thread weaving throughout my life that breaks through the darkness.
This other self feeds on lies.
I am to feast on truth.
I left her to find myself.
I will find myself where I left myself behind.
When did I let go? When did I let go of the hand of my true self?
When did I close my eyes to the Mystery?
I have lost my way again.
By accident, by kismet, or by a meditated hiding.
It is in this lost space I feel truth gripping.
I am waking to believe I am more than one.
A nativity of girls, of women, of warriors inside to stand guard over me, to insulate my sacredness from this world that has ransacked my heart.
This world that ravages innocence.
A world on fire with misplaced desires.
Wounded but alive, sitting in the grave.
Ghosts from the past with empty bellies.
Only content when I have been devoured.
Content when I neighbor her asleep in the grave.
As I dance with her sinecure bones, there is a knowing in my marrow.
It is time to kiss her goodbye.
She is denial.
I am acceptance.
We stand in the liminal space between.
Holly is a rainbow in a world of neutrals. A lover of tacos, rainbows and massive amounts of coffee. Holly digs naps and cuddling with her people which include her hunky hubby and six awesome children. Mourning with those who mourn and rejoicing with those who rejoice is one of Holly’s greatest passions. As a fierce lover of nature, she uses her work as a Forest Therapy guide to aid in her own healing journey as well as offering the healing power of creation to others in her community.
WoW. I identify with so much of this but your words make my way more clear. . While I tend to respond quickly to beautiful writing please know I will refer back to this repeatedly and ruminate for hours on all the textures of truth. Thank you for putting your heart on the paper for the next girl
Holly! Your passion! Your heart! Your stunning beauty in words! From the very first line…”I keep returning to the girl in the grave” …you jarred me into your life. Brilliant.
Such Holy Invitation you call us to…
Thank you Holly for so beautifully articulating the paradox of the gospel story:
”She carries the weight of the world.
I am to carry the weightlessness of Love“
Holly – This piece made me feel emotional as I read it. So much angst, beauty, ambivalence, strength, longing. The line that spoke especially loudly to me was, “A nativity of girls, of women, of warriors inside to stand guard over me, to insulate my sacredness from this world that has ransacked my heart.” What a beautiful and powerful word picture. I pray that that “nativity of warriors” inside you will continue to protect your heart. Thank you for submitting this piece. You are loved.
Love you so much
Deeply true for most of us. This was gut level reality and I appreciate the vulnerability of the author.
Beautiful, vulnerable, strong, and provocative. This piece challenges all readers who might be constructing castles to protect from threat to open doors to living and to how God and gratitude call us to live. Thank you, dear Holly.