I Give Up

Thumbnail image lovingly appropriated from Patrick Benson’s illustrations for the Minpins by Roald Dahl.

Don’t really care anymore just where exactly it comes from. And where exactly it needs to go. Except home, home to the light.

And I am tired of all the push and shoving, and all the sense of something being wrong.

I can hear the voices in my head. I guarantee that not all of them are me.

And there’s so much chaos in the field. How do I proceed, my love? I am so tired of my own pretension and all my ideas - or better said, the ideas that show up in my mind from God knows where - I want to say, and I do say, that my mind belongs to life, and the pure God Source that I serve.

Can I just appear and be what you would have me be? Can I just show up and see what comes through? I’m so afraid of doing something wrong, that could entice the others to attack more than they do already.

But I am not the victim of their crimes anymore. And I am not the criminal in my mind, anymore either. And I am not the weak one seeking shelter from their harm, and I am not the bullies with their broken hearts! And their damage and their need to feel some power and control for once, their need to repeat what happened. To sort out what happened.

I know that place inside, who is trying and trying, the one who has tried to fend off the dying of her fortress against the world. Who’s obsessed with trying to source the pain, to unravel the problem and stamp it out once and for all, not really getting that I am the problem.

I am, so you might as well go on, as I might as well go home, with my pack of my clothes. And my worn out shoes. And my threadbare sweater and my dirty hat. And my lumpy coat and my sad eyes, and my broken heart and my body like an armor, clenched around it, to feel it less.

I may as well show up on your doorstep like this, I may as well show up as I am. I’m ready to come home, I see now. Please let me in. I’m ready to lay my burdens down at your feet. I’m ready to lay my burdens down and retreat. I get it now, please accept my application, to just come home again.

Though I’ve been traveling far and long, though I’ve been haunted in every going corner of this world, I want to come home.

I give up on my intention to conquer it all. I give up on my feeling that it’s up to me. I give up on my brave attempts to survive the hostile world. I give up, I give up, I give up. Thank you.