When granted permission; permission to be free, bold, sensitive, independent, and strong, we begin to take the very things born out of that grant for granted.
Like the passport you hold. A single document, like many others, which controls a huge part of your life and your emotions. Capable of not only allocating power but also depriving you of it. A privilege in one country, a disadvantage in another.
Like the ground you walk on. Barely letting it set in that every time a family friend mentioned homesickness, it wasn't always a reference to the warmth of their community and comfort of familiar faces and environments, sometimes it just referred to craving the arms of their second Mother.
Like the bonds you create. That fragile, volatile, and invisible network which is somehow capable of withstanding the change of not only seasons but also personalities, upholding the monuments of trauma, and growing with every seed of affection and support dispersed yet shattering with months or years of neglect.
Like your body. Your beloved who you sometimes fight for and other times fight with. Who you sometimes treat as you would a best friend and other times abuse as you would an enemy. But is still who you retreat back to at the end of the day.
Like your three musketeers: Mind, Heart, and Soul. Those three put up such a fight that even the universe cannot help but notice. On any adventure, Mind wanders through territories of beauty and reason to discover hidden treasures, Heart courts those who can either offer him something or to whom he could offer something, and Soul mediates to keep both of them from straying too far, stores riches collected by both, and fosters an environment in which all three can thrive.
Like the universe. The elusive, esoteric caretaker who has a rather weird way of caring. Almost as if he is afraid of getting hurt and so continues to hurt you. Until you realize that this is how he knows to love. Yes, it's toxic; good thing you know how to heal, realize you deserve better and walk away to find those beings and things which would treat you better.
Like the little things. Your friend slowing down his pace to ask if you're okay, that baby seated on the next table who rejected you 5 times until he finally reciprocated with a smile, your best friend who dropped everything she was currently doing to prevent you from falling apart, that random dog who jumps seeing you get excited from afar, the blanket your mom pulls over you when you nap at odd times, the candy bar your brother passes you when you were hungry even though it's his favorite thing in the world, the poetry an old friend who is also a closet writer shows you after reading yours, your childhood friend's family members asking her about your wellbeing every time she pays them a visit, the few minutes of bliss during adventures, and the clean water and abundant food placed every day on your table.
Like your privilege. Or the lack thereof.
Like life. Something which can make you either bitter or better.
