I don’t like posting twice on the same day, but I really want to put this one up tonight.
You cannot be the source of someone’s happiness, peace and joy.
It is not your job.
And sometimes, we are told this from a very young age and all we know from thereon out, is that we need to keep the peace… we don’t learn that we can challenge opinions, and say ‘no’ to things that make us uncomfortable.
we become people pleasers with a skewed sense of love.
we think that we have to somehow earn the ‘i love you’s’ by being the source to people who don’t know where to find it themselves, or don’t want to find it themselves.
you are not a crutch.
you were a given a life.
go and live it!
With a grateful nod to Melissa T, for a line that I used in this poem.
let your failures leave you a better person, not a bitter person.
you are not alone in failing.
let the mistakes you have made—all of them—even the big ones, especially the big ones, leave you as one who will walk back to search for the one who needs help.
you are not the only one who has been lost.
everyone says let go of your failures—let go of your past. i say, all the things you wish you could undo in your life—those three am regrets? don’t let them go. hold onto them, but hold onto them loosely, so that you will always remember what it feels like to get it wrong.
because you are not the only one who has to fight off their past.
don’t let shame define you, but don’t forget the taste of it in your mouth.
give others what you needed when you were on your knees, with your back against the wall.
do this without any ulterior motive.
just be kind.
kindness, compassion and love like to get their hands dirty. they’re not ones for standing around looking holy.
so, take your hurts, take your memories, your failures and your regrets, and go out there and be a safe place for others and give them grace like it’s water.
you hold light in your hands and hope in your mouth.
and you might be the only one doing so.
this is how we change the world. this is how we save lives.
— thoughts on failure.
Photograph by Ander Burdain.
this is not my usual style, but things that need to be said.