.10 "i know now that my heart is a soft thing. what’s the point in pretending it isn’t?"

i missed my self-imposed deadline this month because i’ve been sitting with these thoughts and having trouble untangling them enough to make sense of what i wanted to say. so this will be imperfect, but what isn’t, especially in these times? maybe the sharing is enough, that others might take these thoughts and turn them into something that’s useful for them.

i believe we hold rage because we carry hurt — that others are not living up to the basic expectations required of a community — that they are not living up to our expectations — that the world is unfair and unjust, that we, ourselves, are not always the people we want to be.

i believe our rage is grief, crying out to be held and healed. that it needs time and space to simply be, so that its edges can soften and we’re able to better understand and move through it. that we often hold on to our rage so tightly while the edges are still sharp, we don’t give it the space it needs to transform, because everything transforms, into something we can hold gently and, eventually, let it go of.

that we end up cutting ourselves on that rage, the wounds making the rage continue building, until it becomes something uglier, something rotten.

that, ultimately, there can be no healing without love.

i have been angry, and it exhausted me. it drained me so fully, i could no longer find joy. it hardened my heart.

i have seen how anger transforms good people, people who care about kindness and fairness. how it prevents them from seeing reality, so assumptions become their truth. how they stop being able to see the good in others, because they begin assigning values based on those assumptions. how the entire world, for them, becomes a place full of villains, of bad intentions.

i think we make a mistake when we confuse passion for rage. because, yes, rage can be a spark to ignite, to catalyze. but passion ultimately stems from love, not hate. when we are motivated by love, a warm ember rather than a quick-burning fuel, our energy is sustained. we can go longer, dive deeper, when our hearts are soft, when that softness allows others in. when we can rely on others to help shoulder the burden of carrying on.

after anger comes surrender. here is a quiet prayer for myself, for others: 

may i surrender myself to the tides of life. may i relinquish control, so that i no longer feel rage about the things i don’t have control over.

and when anger does come, because it will, may i learn to allow it to become a spark, rather than something endlessly burning, turning my soul to ash. may i let love carry me forward.

stay soft, stay passionate,

<3,

n.

p.s.

• if you haven’t seen “fire of love” — where this post’s featured image came from — go watch it right now.

• also highly recommend reading both books that were quoted in this post:

  • play nice

  • those beyond the wall (but start with the first book, the space between worlds)

• …if your heart needs a lighter read, though, might i recommend this entirely sweet and swoon-y and weird and silly cozyish fantasy romance? i just finished the trilogy and sobbed at it being over. but like, a good sob, because of all the happy endings.