The Man in the Mirror

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How do I say I am sorry?

How do I take back all of the words I have said to you?

How do I touch you and make you feel like you are whole again?

How do I lead you to joy? To happiness? To the land that you were promised at birth?

How do I reach you through the glass, oh man in the mirror?

The wall I have to tear down is not made of stone.  It is made of unbreakable mirrored glass.  I cannot escape my own gaze as I search frantically for the gate.  I cannot shut my own eyes as I watch the struggle against the insanity of my very human existence.  I can only stare, compassionately and without judgement, and love the man who stares back at me with such hopelessness, such trepidation, and such humanity and show him that love is not a pool into which we dive deeply, but rather a reflection of the very essence of who we are.

Sense yourself, my friend, and know that you are loved here.  Feel the caress of your own hand along the scars you have accumulated along the way.  Feel the warmth of forgiveness flow across your Entirety until you become that warmth.  Nurture it.  Know it.  Be it.

Love the parts of the man who cannot heal.  Tend to those wounds and accept them as they are.  Then miracles will happen as the unhealed become healed and the scars become smooth testaments to the power within you.  Do not attempt to hasten the journey, but do not stand as an obstacle either.  Tend to the flock within you, and the storms outside of you will cease to exist.  Let go.  Feel it escape the loosening grip of your wary fingers.  Feel it slide through your calloused palms until nothing but air exists where once ideas stood.

Then you will be free, for all falling is free even when you hit the ground.