It’s hard to begin afresh when you’ve been still for so long. Still physically, still mentally, still spiritually. A pond with no movement leads to brackish, brown water. Overgrown with weeds, surface reflecting a sad, tired, sheen.
Awakening from a sleep, coming around from inactivity, closing the book on that chapter of silence. It’s hard to begin again. But begin again we must.
Begin with the mind. Open the soul, allow ideas and feelings to drift and catch and channel into your conscience. Feel them out, make peace, allow them to fill you up.
Meditate, allow yourself to take time, build a solid foundation to grow from. Polish, sweep, explore, begin to clear out residual negativity, the cobwebs of the soul. Feel yourself grow stronger. Look forwards.
Talk. Let everything out. Dust off old ideas, give them a new coat of paint. Rusty minds need oiling, rusty joints need easing. Feed your mind with words and wonder. Turn off the TV. Listen, read, walk. Walk slowly. Feel the creak of bones, the pull of unused muscles. Feel the ache as your body gets slowly stronger.
Cry out the frustration, let your tears fall into that stagnant pond and disturb the surface just a little more, let a little more light in, a little more fresh water. Raise your head and stare down the line of your future. Straighten stiff, curved shoulders. Feel dust, rust, that old shell. Feel it flake away and crumble to bits under your heel. Feel your regeneration. Breathe in fresh air, into your heart, into your mind.
Think I am, not I should. Know I am, not I was. Be I am, not I can’t.
And every painful, slow step forwards begins to make a difference. From being balled up, curled away from the world, we begin to unfurl, cautiously, slowly. We eat good foods. We stop taking in negativity, stop comparison, seek out understanding. We waver on the edge of change, so easy to fall back again. But this time, this time it’s different. It’s the right time.
Take that one single step off the ledge. And start to fly.