The voice is quiet

Subtle

No wonder I miss it so often

My head is loud with habit

And the things I already knew

It’s easy to misconstrue

Or mishear

The quiet voice of my intuition saying

Don’t go there,

Not like that

And all the other small ways it tries to guide me

My head is up here

The dark places are down there

Often behind me

So far behind me in time

Still attached to my body

These old strings are louder than the gentle voice

The wise voice that dwells inside me

My shadow grows long in the midday sun

But at night it all blends into one

And then it comes to find me

I take it apart stitch by stitch

But it’s never gone entirely

But that’s okay

I’ve worked it out

I’ve read the last page

It ends well.

Header photo: one of those little neighbourhood library nooks. They are such a beautiful idea – shared stories for people – take anytime, perhaps add your own.

The poem? Life is full of backward laws: confidence doesn’t come from success – and often success can make people even more anxious – true confidence comes from being okay with failing. Which is why perfectionists are so fragile. I know, I used to be a perfectionist. Not always in deed but in my mind, I was so terrified of failing.

There are so many examples of backward laws in life’. The way to positive almost always tracks through a negative path.

Anxiety, trauma, habit and old patterns are loud.

Intuition is quiet, simple, and it never explains itself.

You would think the stronger sensation, the louder voice would be right – it sounds so confident.

But it’s over explaining.

“Don’t go in there”

Vs

“Don’t go in there because no one likes you and you’re probably not dressed in the right thing and blah blah blah”

What’s the saying? Insecurity is loud and confidence is quiet?

Something like that

And that’s how I separate fiction from truth too.