Who among us has the raw courage to reveal our true self,
the one buried deep within our most sacred heart?
We are such complicated, nuanced beings,
so many layers, chameleons,
becoming any shade of what we need to be in the moment;
no intention of insincerity,
only a basic survival skill
learned before time began.
do we even know our true selves behind the gauzy scrim of being?
Do we look with compassion into our dark, cob-web-filled corners,
or find only judgement and fear?
Every experience makes us who we are.
Every single one.
The times we shone bright
and the times we sank to our darkest depths.
Nothing is black and white,
rather something nebulous in between;
a sort of beauty built in mystery.
I stare into my grandmother’s mirror,
the one that holds reflections and stories from my earliest years,
my crinkled eyes looking back knowingly at me.
I see all that I was and am in the reflection;
my foibles, my fears,
my heart, my empathy.
So many mistakes, so much love and loss.
I look deep into the eyes of my secret heart,
for once not shying away,
welcoming it all with open arms.