On the way out
Mired in overwhelming circumstances, beyond the control of the conscious mind.
Pain being inevitable, suffering being optional. So often forgetting that there's no need and purpose in the suffering. The emotional part of the brain engulfs the body with drained energy, so much so that it seems as if the beingness of who I am is drowning in mud, flailing about, causing splatters of gunk on the splintered pieces of the soul that have not yet been melded into glistening glimmers of gold.
The empowered portion of the soul seeks valiantly to rise above the muck and disaster swirling around the enveloped heart, wrapped in humanity, yet silently singing in spirit, whispering renderings of memories of the innate greatness, so often forgotten.
That strong spirit granted to this fragile soul is but a dichotomy for its existence. An oxymoron so as to remember that there IS a choice, there IS a way out. And on the way out of this turbulent happening, the soul is then relieved that all things in life are temporary and that the only constant in life is change. "This, too, shall pass", thank God.
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