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A Sacred Gift


I’ve learned a thing or two about vulnerability of late.

I’ve learned to lean into cliff-diving terror and the mental tumble of judgment.

I’ve cultivated courage by taking a knife to my core,

and bursting blisters of pain.

I’ve had flashbacks of dark madness

sprinkled with moments of immaculate joy

as I lay crumbled on the floor.

Throughout my purge,

in the cyberspace backdrop of my life,

I am held

by a collective

generosity of spirit that knows no bounds.

Weaving in between,

over and around my pain

dance a tender army of wild hearts.

My soul soars as they wildly waltz to the beat of my broken heart.

As my raw meets their wild,

I inhale their limitless love.

My ego relentlessly stabs at my soft spots,

penetrating me

with accusations

of

unworthiness and shame.

As ego hijacks my humanity,

I convince myself I am an unwelcome visitor to this tribe

of wild warriors.

As I confront the beast, I am reminded

that my ego exposes my vulnerability

and

therein lies her sacred gift.

My vulnerability demands my courage.

My courage cuts the ties of my shame and connects me back to my core.

Vulnerability is the cost of my liberation,

and wild is my courage.

DIARY OF A HOTEL WIFE

Barbara Anne Klein

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