Dealing with a double-masked intruder

Qu'est ce-que c'est?

Je déteste ça.

I feel like I'm

standing on the edge of

a precipice,

and there is roaring water

underneath, with

distant thunder and darkness

threatening to engulf me.

My connections seem tenuous.

The air feels very thin up here.

I'm grasping at straws - reeds that

seem likely to break - and

the truth seems so nebulous;

there are so many arrows

pointed at me,

and I wonder who is on my side.

But what terrifies me is the

silence - the silence

of everything around me, this

invisible demon.

The silence of betrayal,

the silence of an epidemic,

the silence of the Evil Banality of

Misogyny,

the silence of patriarchy.

These white-masked, uninvited intruders

all beckon me, tempting me to

feel lesser or smaller than

what I really am worth,

what I really am meant for.

But Toni Morrison said that

to fly, I have to "let go of the

shit that weighs me down."

So I let go.

I take tentative steps,

as a babe

and let go of my

fears, the doubts,

the lies,

all the voices that

try to tell me

I'm not good enough,

that "I'm this" or "I'm that,"

and I fall onto a bed of clouds,

soft and inviting like

KSJ or JJK's voice,

angelic and quiet,

reminding me to keep going,

nudging me because

this world is NOT

what I can see with my eyes

but what I can feel with my heart,

discern with my spirit,

and shape with my words

and my actions - guiding me

into an Evermore that is not

measured by the yardsticks of this

world, but is created and built

with my heart, mind and soul -

fire.