The Beginning of Everything


There is a power over me.

It's the one that I granted,
the one that I give a run from 
when I feel it 

or when I sense fear in me 
or panic 
or any other emotion that I might try and label as 
negative, or uncomfortable.

I push it 
and suppress it, 
so as not to deal with it.

It’s far easier that way, and, 
if I’m honest, 
I can sense my youngest inner self 
projecting it out
and suppressing it
so as to capture it
and my most mature, grown ego self 
labeling it as that which must be pushed away 
because of its negative nature 
and then I realize 
that that nature, is, 
indeed, my Self.

Or, a part of it,
at least.

And so, to push it away,
to push it down,
is to push away 
my very own Self;
and so it would seem
that the best thing I can do 
is to lean into those moments 
and feel every single thing that is 
there, at its outer edge,
and let it speak.

More: let it be heard.

Because, when I do that, 
I meet another part of my Self 
that I must reckon with;
I meet another part of my Self 
that I must to look at, and know, 
and deal with. 

It may be dark,
and it may not be fun,
but that's Me,
that’s a part of my Self, 
that's the stuff of my Nature, 
and if I'm gonna truly love myself,
and if I'm gonna cut the bullshit 
on that cliché saying at all
then why not put my own God(s) to the test?
Why not take everything I say I believe in 
and see if it applies to my Self?
Why not take 
all the promises of scripture 
and all of the blessings and the curses
and all of the truths and all the faces 
that I've ever literally thrown my very life upon 
and ask my Self 
whether or not those all, too, 
apply to Me? 

(especially the hidden ones?)

And if 
it does, 
if it does,
well, then,
that's the beginning of everything.

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