The older I get, the more I realise how infinitely, utterly, painfully, excruciatingly human I am.

The past couple of weeks have made me see this all the more clearly.

And sometimes I get scared. That if I keep finding places I need to heal… keep finding mistakes I’ve made + wounds I carry…

How on earth do I carry on with self-belief and courage?

How on earth do I both heartfully acknowledge mistakes I’ve made AND not make it an inner whipping post that stiffens me from ever doing anything again?

How do I see + accept the places where I have misstepped, and step again, knowing that I may do it again?

How do we let our failures not freeze us?

I don’t know.

These are the questions I am wrestling with today.

But when I wrestle with them, a certainty rises in me,

sure as grass sprouting from soil.

And the voice says:

You will grow anyway, Leonie.

You can no sooner turn your head from the sun, beckoning it closer, stretching up like a child raising its arm to its mother… than a sunflower can.

Each day, you get to love yourself. Whole-heartedly + unconditionally.

Not because you are the perfect person. Not because you’ve never made a mistake in your life. Not because you’ve ever hurt or injured others in your flailings as a human.

You get to do it anyway.

Because if we all waited… waited + waited until we were shiny + bright + new… not one of us on the planet could bear to love ourselves. And without that love… that deep centered source of life… without that love we are doomed to keep flailing, keep lashing out, keep damaging others with our wounds, keep on keeping on with being unconscious.

And so somehow… love must lead the way.

I am not perfect.
I am not perfect.
I am not perfect.

And that too is perfect.

I am healing.
I am healing.
I am healing.

And I am not whole yet.

I am grateful.
I am grateful.
I am grateful.

For every time the rough parts of me bump up against the rough parts of another.
We are rocks in the river, tumbling over each other,
softening each other smooth,
polishing each other true + whole.

May we each be a gift to each other.
Perfectly imperfect. Forgiving each other. Giving each other grace.
May we do the same for our own sweet souls too.



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