Slow motion

The truth is
I was a sleeping passenger
on a train
waking only for brief moments of clarity.

Desperately trying to coast my way
through my own life
by being numb to it all.

The trouble with losing sight of yourself isn’t what it feels like in the moment.

It’s the weight of when you reappear
like an afternoon nap
lasting a bit too long
taking over your senses
leaving you defenseless
groggy and confused.

Slowly you come into a recognition
that you simply faded
into a shell of yourself.

A million little moments
lost
because you were too afraid to live.

Once you realize you were gone
you might be tempted to
fill in the holes of your identity hastily
trying to be whole again.

Yet, I’d ask you, to slow it down.
Leaning in
to how you got lost in the first place.

And, if that’s where you are right now
in this moment
know that you are not alone.

I’m right beside you in slow motion
losing my mind at this snail’s pace
but in my clearest moments
I know it’s worth it to finally
be intentional enough
not to settle into a comfortable life
or, to ever settle again.

I want to feel my way through
to an honest space
where I am awake enough
to clearly see you
and you see me.



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