Would Be Miracle

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I can hear it even now,
the voice in my head
saying everything I do is wrong,
nothing I do is right.
It’s an old voice,
an anxious voice.
It’s the meaning I made
when as a child
my broken heart sought reasons
for not receiving the love,
encouragement,
praise
and support
I wanted and deserved.
But there is no blame.
There is this moment
and a brief space of clarity
where I can remember…
If I can hear the voice
and I can repeat what it is saying
then the voice isn’t me…
It’s just a habit. It’s an echo of the past.
My intellect can articulate this clearly,
but my body needs time to catch up.
It feels sad and mopey and droopy today,
like everything is wrong
and nothing is right.
How can I bring the clarity of my intellect
to bear on the traumatized inner child
who waits and waits and waits
for it all to be over,
never realizing
that she is the one who is causing all the torment?
Healing isn’t linear and instantaenous…
it’s multidimensional,
and it takes time.
Now if only I could relax into the process
of awakening and remembering
the truth about myself…
If only I could land in a place
where these painful thoughts
no longer determine the color of my days…
That would be a miracle.

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