Poets logo

Belong

The heart of the matter is a matter of the heart.

By Heather ClimerPublished 6 years ago 4 min read
Like
They say a picture is worth a thousand words.

So I will paint you a story.

A story of a heart that knew no bounds, but created them nonetheless.

Why, you ask? Why take the endless potential of creation spiraling out, beckoning to be realized, and confine it within a stone box?

This heart felt it needed to belong. And as it watched, it learned. The world is hard. The people have soured themselves and each other in a struggle for dominance. For being right. For control. So this heart slowly picked up the tainted tools and coping mechanisms scattered from a populace so distracted and consumed with proving themselves to everything outside, that they forgot themselves entirely. In due time, this heart withered under the weight of barricades and facades, fake masks worn on faces day in and day out. The daily grind, a penny saved is a penny earned, your back can break under this weight, but this is necessity. The world requires you to sacrifice your all. Swallow your heart. Be a good citizen.

Another brick in the wall.

And within the hazy smog of mute greys and lifeless browns, this heart buckled. In fear, in grief, in shame for not belonging to this mad dash of material gain.

But a small question remained, in the core of the grief.

Why?

Why this endless striving to suffer?

Why the masquerade of false pretenses?

Why the manipulation, and the need to control?

Why is the Truth hiding?

Where is it hiding?

What the fuck is wrong here?

And so, the carefully constructed walls from years of learned behavior began to crack.

And this heart believed that madness had come to collect.

You see, this heart has always breathed in color, and felt in music. It always found certain letters much more polite than other numbers, and that kind of nonsense simply would not do. But this heart had suffocated under the weight of expectations that weren't ever truly a home to begin with.

So this heart decided that instead of forgetting itself entirely (which honestly sounded like true madness to begin with) it decided to learn to love, all over again, in a world that seemed built to seek out that flame to extinguish it with despair and loss.

And this...this is where the story truly begins.

An uncertain, but determined heart that set out to discover what it truly meant to be. Diving into the darkest caverns of self denial, grief, and loss, in all the wreckage of the human condition.

A song of truth that would tremble through the melody, a flame that would flicker in the depths of others who devoured their own selves to avoid knowing and owning who and what they truly are.

A patience that would deny itself what it truly deserved, because love means understanding, and patience is key, right?

Another lesson learned.

Through the seasons, the death, and rebirth. Through the alchemy of unbecoming, this heart persevered. Until, after so many trials, faults, errors, and straight up tripping over itself, this heart finally learned to pause on the rest. To maintain it's own rhythm, in the face of all, this heart learned to hold space for itself, in its own entirety, and consequently discovered a paradox.

The whole spectrum is complete of itself. The pendulum will swing as it may, but it's all colors bleeding into one. Fractals dancing with each other through a web of thought. Turn the prism, and there's a new color.

This heart learned what it means to create.

And the answers will forever elude the mind's logic and reason, for they are modes of comprehension. The mind believes it needs these to discern the truth. But it remains hidden in plain sight.

It is not captured with doubt. Nor is it captured with blind faith.

It is embraced when we stop fighting ourselves.

It is realized when we allow ourselves to be free of the poisoned apples we eat for breakfast with every "I can't" or "It's too much".

It's actualized when we allow ourselves to claim our right to be worthy of our own damn love and respect, instead of making our happiness contingent on others approval. When we recognize that our sole responsibility lies in having our own backs. And when we stand in that place of in-between, there are no battles to be won, no wars. There is nothing to defend. There's just you, and me, in a field of endless possibility.

No longer restrained by the shoulda, coulda, woulda, but electric with the what if, the why not, and the Hell YES.

This place is not a home for those who question themselves, or second guess, because here, forever is now, and it unfolds precisely as it should, and we bear witness to the magic of existing without pretenses, guidelines, or boxes to define ourselves or others.

No man's land is where we stand. A field outside accepted boundaries, existing on the peripheral of concept.

So you see, this heart has made a journey back home to itself. Where belonging is no longer a yearning, but an inviolable truth of simply existing.

inspirational
Like

About the Creator

Heather Climer

A chaotic combination of music, molecules, color and curiosity. Fueled by no small amount of caffeine, I find inspiration in the world around me, and do my best to represent my reality.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.