Don’t be fooled by the voices. They will lie to you, for they wish to drive you to your knees. They will tell you tales of woe, hoping to make that sword of love you carry too heavy to bear. They will deceive you into those bleak corners of your mind, those spaces that block out the light from your radiant heart, so that you can be blinded to the truth of who you are. You are a beast, a warrior without bounds and a loving heart without cause to live in fear.
Do not own those moments when they washed you clean of your honor and robbed you of your strength. Those moments are part of the story, but they are not the story. Your story goes far beyond those moments of weakness when you banished your truth into the shadows. You are not the wounds, or the sword, or the shield, or the battles won and lost before. You are all of it, and now you get to write your own story with the pen you’ve chosen. There are so many blank pages yet to be etched with your truth. Let those be the testimony of the wonders of who you are.
Do not banish those voices from your space. Rather, embrace them, love them. Those whom were once your masters now bow to your power, though test you they will. Now, the wise self has risen up to master the story, and though the mind may mutiny in moments of remembrance the heart will remind the Master of her purpose. She will then rise, look into the Sun, and feel her feet root in solid ground while her crown touches eternity. She has risen, again, and she is magnificent.
There is a space in our souls reserved for honoring the warrior within us. The warrior is not birthed in our exit from the womb, but birthed in the the muck of our existence. Our strength is not assured in the moment of our conception, but in our victory over our own resistance, in our rising from the mud we have fallen in. Someday that moment will arise when the warrior must be heard. When that moment comes, she will stand, unsheathe her sword, and choose to rule the landscape of life that lies before her. She will uproot the weeds and give the flowers life, and she will carve into the stones of her being words of great truth, all her own, and she will see the awe of who she is.
I, but a man yet a warrior as well, will bend a knee in honor of that spirit. She will bend her knee in unity, for the warrior in us will honor the warrior in each other. The two shall embrace and light the world with a kiss, a path united in nothing but the truth, in nothing but the fearless endeavor of love.
And so it is, and so it will always be…