A Good Reason To Go

I decided to post my entire poetry books here as a little exclusive for those who happen to find my profile. If you'd still like to support me, I'll link the Amazon link. Thank you for sharing space with me.

A collection of poetry about coming home to yourself accompanied by a workbook to help guide you on a 21-week journey to do this.

My decision to add A Good Reason To Go to my collection of self-published poetry followed a string of heartbreak, loneliness, and self-discovery. I found myself deeper than ever into my spiritual awakening, and I wanted to share life-changing messages I’ve received on my voyage. But I didn’t want the messages just to be heard; I wanted them to be practiced. The workbook accompanying this book is for all those on their journey home to themselves.

Dedication:

To me, for seeking home outside of myself but finding it inward.

To God, for trusting me to trust him.

To Source, for being the eternal light during my darkest times.

As I Begin To Flee

Is my hastiness holding up a mirror,

For you to see your fears clearer,

To see your end drawing nearer,

And all the wasted time shimmer,

Does this make you shiver?

Yearn for blood since it’s thicker,

For the water you drink is bitter.

We will always be what we consume

Will I betray you if I bloom?

Shed this damp costume,

Allow my true self to loom,

In the stickiness of June,

You were wrong about what you assumed

Because I’m not just running from, I’m running to.

---Sometimes our choices in life make people reflective of theirs. It sits like boulders on their backs. How could they have wasted so much time in life not becoming who they’ve always wanted to be?

How could my loved one be living out my fantasy? We are mirrors of each other’s subconscious. What we choose to ignore, we’ll see in other people. Good or bad.

I felt as though this is what happened to my loved ones. My impulsiveness made them see their stagnancy. My fearlessness made them see their risk aversion.  

Gate #31

Makeup deteriorating on their sweaty faces, leaflets littered all over the auditorium, wires tangled around the microphones, but man, was it a good show.

Red curtains still jiggling from their closure, the collective set of sighs and high fives, the crinkling of candy wrappers, the soft feeling of a hard time ending.

The struggle to memorize lines, costumes stained with sweat, the long for approval trapping vocal cords, that version of me as a marionette.

I watched the curtains open into a sea of smiling faces, I watched them close the same.

The costume tucked away in my bag of tricks, in my carryon luggage, right next to my stage fright.

---My first time flying was nerve-wracking yet freeing. Leaving behind everything for a new life I thought would be everything I’d always dreamt of. As I ascended into the air, I felt a heaviness in my body, and then…weightlessness.

The Night Of Uncertainty

Uncertainty will make you stray but only if you let it, don’t ignore it, coexist with contradictions, we are everything and we are nothing, to contradict is to exist.

If there is nothing else you can do, breathe. Even if it hurts, even if you sob through every exhale, even if your lungs feel weary, because if you’re breathing, you still exist, if you still exist you have a purpose, if you have a purpose, you must find a way to achieve it.

And if you ever feel overwhelmed, feel it, sit in it, let it crush you, let it become the whole force of gravity all at once, let your stomach churn, your heart palpitate, your brain explode, feel the burden of existing in the moment. And when the moment passes, feel the lightness of existing. The weightlessness of transcending from moment to moment, swimming through time.

To contradict is to exist.

---suddenly everything I thought I knew slipped out from under my feet. The rug was pulled by uncertainty. I feel hard on my ass, and I wanted to stay there. I wanted to give up so badly. How could I ever open my heart up to love again when giving up everything I once was, everything I once knew wasn’t enough to make it stay? How could I ever trust that new opportunities weren’t just bad entities dressed as spirit guides? I lost faith. I was so angry with God. I was angry with myself, with him, with the sun, moon, and stars.  

When Morning Comes

Let’s forget this matrix, pretend we’re just seniors in the countryside cooking up old recipes as apologies in our kitchen, telling our past “I’m so sorry I wasted so many years. But here I am now, wise, sweater pulled up to my chin, warm, welcoming, waiting.

Let’s not feign this disappearing act, let’s really do it, Seep into the earth, become the trees, become the melodies the birds sing, disappear with me.

What we’re sowing will be reaped in the dusty yellow of the morning. The night holds our pain as another notch on its belt, but the morning lets us tie a new knot, form a new bond, with the new day.

---The wisest words come from the elderly. Sometimes, they don’t have to say anything. They’ll answer your question with a deep gaze into your eyes and a “You just know”, as they descend back into their rocking chairs, peering heavily into the atmosphere around them.

They become the atmosphere, and for a second, you feel a rush of calm. The anxiety lifted from you and replaced with a warm blanket of faith. The feeling of being lost disintegrates right before your eyes.

I Am The Plane Landing, I Am Grounded

Today, I planted my feet in the soil, asked God to use my tears to water them, and something new sprouted right in front of my eyes.

Looking down at the wet earth, I saw sunflowers growing calmly, looking up toward the Sun for nourishment – looking up toward me.

I gave them a wink, thanked them for tickling my chin, for holding it up back toward my creator after it dropped from the heaviness of heartbreak.

I thank them for looking toward me, reminding me I am the Sun, reminding me I am bright and beautiful. That I can nourish, and I can destroy.

That equilibrium has made a home in my belly, so the next time I feel so tilted toward the wrong pole, toward the end of the tree trunk pointed away from the creator, I can bring myself back to Center.

---Taking back my power, my energy. Remembering just how powerful of a being I am. That I am only powerful because I am being. It all comes full circle. I am here.

I am loved.

I am boundless.

I am beautiful.

I am powerful.

I am the sun.

I am energy.

I am created, but I cannot be destroyed.

Speak Now My Love

I gave the microphone to her but told her that tonight, she is not a performer, but tonight she speaks her truth, throat chakra unclouded.

She speaks about the paradox of agony and likens it to spicy food. It hurts, yet we crave it. She asks the crowd if maybe, we are just used to it. We’ve found home in pain, and that is why anything soothing is uncomfortable. Anything that heals us feels like running away, instead of running to.

She says to not confuse acceptance with allowance or forgiveness with understanding or chasing with running or loving with tolerating or growing with selfishness.

The crowd is in awe at her words, cheering her on as she returns to the center of my mind, my third eye looking out at the crowd, my ancestors, appeased and delighted.

---I came back to myself this night to speak my truth. To stop people pleasing and only doing and saying things everyone else wanted me to do. I did this, and I ended up heartbroken, lost, betrayed, and confused. I ended up so disconnected from my body, from God.

But I vowed this night to always keep the chords to my inner being strong. To not let any man, woman, family member, friends, or career make this cords fray.  

I Am A Good Reason To Stay

The sense of urgency that made me convulse so hard until I became a memory made me feel like a foreigner in my own body a memory in my own mind,

I sought out on a quest to find my residence, to find this arena that my soul should exist in, to find the area that would not ostracize my spirit,

I searched in love and people for the water that I could not find in myself, I held fast to their tides trying to find my ocean, maybe their sea would eventually pour into my dehydrated river,

I searched in work and riches, maybe if I could climb the highest pyramid, I’d feel like royalty dressed in purple satin waiting for my jester to appease me,

And when I did not find it in any of these places, rage brewed inside me, black coffee as dark as night in the desert.

I grew angry, like a beast who is only labeled a beast because he is big and loud, my slippery survival mode kicked in and I could only fight, be defensive, kick, scream, run. ¬

Until one day, I ran into myself, realized the home I was searching for has always been here, centered in my heart, and running away meant I was running from myself, myself, who I cannot escape, because I should not escape,

because I am the one who will never leave, I am the one who will give me richness of the soul, I am the one who will give myself approval and praise, I am the one who will give myself a hug after a long day, a goodnight kiss, a pep talk, a cup of coffee, rivers that overflow, boundless amounts of love and appreciation,

a good reason to stay.

Hold On, Your Equinox Is Coming Soon (meditation)

I want you to gaze into a mirror.

Take a deep breath.

Take another.

Take another.

Take another.

Now,

I want you to see yourself as Earth, feel the energy of each hemisphere, keep seeing yourself this way when life knocks you off your axis into a solstice, where the heat of Day seems too long and the dark of lengthy Night seems to wither your spirit.

Remember that your equinox is coming soon, remember that balance will be restored, remember that a flux of energy is what gives us seasons, and treat each season with tenderness,

thank your sweat for keeping you cool during scorching Summers, your frostbitten fingers for allowing blood to flow to your most vital organs during icy Winters, your watery eyes for cleansing themselves during blooming Springs, and your windswept hair for being free during breezy Autumns.

You have a flaming core in your belly to remind you that your umbilical cord lies with Source, God, and Spirit. You, Earth with the fireball energy, were not created nor can you ever be destroyed. Remember this the next time you feel stress withering you away. You will only come back in another form. More resilient. More understanding. More compassionate. More loving.

Take a deep breath.

Take another.

Take another.

See yourself.

Bright and beautiful.

Tell yourself how much you love them.

Sit in this feeling of love for as long as you need to.