I can easily become exhausted around the banter of noisy egos.
I don’t enjoy superficial but flourish in meaningful.
I’d rather have silence, a good book and some dark chocolate than attend a party.
I’m not “cool” or “hip.”
I don’t dress flashy or in-style. Fitting in, is difficult.
I sort of blend but I don’t mix well.
I can play the extrovert but prefer my introverted heart.
The former leaves me exhausted.
I can hear emotions hiding in the shadow of false bravado.
I can see when eyes truly twinkle or blink back a tear.
It’s exhausting to feel all of the time, so I am hanging out in low gear.
It is a space above an imaginary watermark.
It’s not an easy place to be.
I tread the water in my soul.
I hide under a lily pad, peeking out occasionally but mostly staying tucked in.
The water is tepid and the weight of the lily pad is comforting.
It’s okay to rest.
I need to rest in this quietness
and give myself permission
to recalibrate my heart of emotions.
It’s a sandstorm of chipping away debris and filling it with love.
My inner camera lens seeks truth as I burn through my karma.