Power, Pain & Possibility

The woman who ran with wolves? What if you were raised by one? What if you ARE one? Or something else? Or no-thing? Or ALL things? A womb. A portal. A possibility. An ending. A beginning. An infinite. Starlight and Dust. Mud and Moon Mystic and Mistake Perfection and Mutation. A paradox An unknown. A question mark. An it. An Is. An I Am.

When the win isn't pretty Finally. Completion. A circle closing. And a lone person standing in the center. Bloody. Beaten. Sword tipped downward in surrender. Surrendering to the acknowledgement that this took everything. This victory cost more than they reckoned. It cost them peace, self-preservation, joy. Their back is bent from the heaviness of others obligations as they toiled to best internal beasts that threatened their path of betterment. It was so much harder with the unnecessary weight of outdated scripts heavy on the shoulders like boulders built in past lives. They toiled under the yoke of ancestral angst refusing to be devoured by the shadows that threatened their light. Ultimately they prevailed, but at what cost? Accolades ring hallow in the halls of a mind wrecked by the echoes of ghost asking "what next?" No time for celebration. No pause for basking in the finality of a chapter closing. Only the void, beckoning for another chance to prove you are worthy. You stare into it seeing the future you under the boot of almost good enough and this time you turn your back, remove your helmet, and breathe...

I got outside yesterday. Nature is healing...

Building something from nothing is an act of defiance. An act of faith. A battle between vision and reality, exhaustion and exhilaration, certainty and the creeping whisper of doubt. There is a weight to creation. A burden carried by those who see the unseen, who dream what others cannot fathom, who forge paths with hands bloodied from breaking ground no one believed could be walked. To build something from nothing is to breathe life into the intangible, to wrestle with shadows until form emerges, to battle doubt with nothing but conviction and the stubborn refusal to let the dream die. And then—one day—it exists. The vision, the thing that once lived only in whispers and restless nights, stands solid before you. A testament to the war waged in its name. And you, you stand with it. Empty. Full. Exhausted. Invigorated. Creation is a paradox. It takes from you even as it gives. Leaves you standing at the edge of what’s next, staring into the unknown, knowing that one of the possibilities is failure— and yet, you stand anyway. With hope. With anticipation. With the battle-worn stance of a soldier who has won a war no one else even knew was being fought. This is what it means to be a trailblazer. To birth what did not exist. To hold space for something the world doesn’t yet understand. And even if they never see the cost, those who need it, will know its value. ~Doc Yu Roc~

I'm trying desperately to get out of my "dust bunny" era. It has been infuriatingly relentless. I will have moments of sparkle that fizz out quickly under the weight of all the shit I gotta do. I must rekindle my flame of badassery before Igore takes full control of my physical frame! insert dramatic hand to forehead and deep sigh

Power is not the absence of vulnerability. It is the courage to wield it with intention.

Sometimes this is the only hug I can tolerate. First rope experience. Touch Averse.

Let’s talk power. Let’s talk pain. Let’s talk possibility.