You know where the gold is, dear friend? It’s not in the popular songs or the published books; and it’s not in the music studios or the editorial desks. No, the gold is in the rusty chords of your guitar, in the folder in your notes entitled Poems, in the notebook you’ve been journaling in ever since you were young. The gold is in the things not yet shared, not yet spoke, not yet sang out of your being. The gold-the light-is inside of you!
Isaiah 60:1 “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you.”
It becomes very easy, when you isolate yourself, to believe that people won’t understand you, that they couldn’t possibly comprehend what you are feeling.
And perhaps they won’t, you know? Perhaps they won’t be able to entirely understand what’s in your mind or your heart. But, if they are willing to listen, it means they are willing to see; so show them, show the people around you how you feel, how you hurt.
Let yourself be seen!
Here’s to the artists and inventors.Here’s to the ones that create. Here’s to the unseen paintings and the unheard songs; to the unread stories and to poetries unknown. Here’s to the ones that make without ever fearing no one will ever see their creation. Here’s to those who are afraid to do so and here’s to them finding the courage to be artists even if no one ever will call them by this name. Here’s to you, dear friend, calling yourself a writer✍🏻, a poet🗣, a painter🎨, a singer🎤, an artist🎭-here’s to all the ones calling the art out of you.
How do you deal with pain?
Well, you cry it out. You speak it, you shout it or you whisper it. You do what you can to take it out of your bones.
You let go.
Then, you forgive.
And you’ll repeat, everyday from then on: “it’s going, it’s going, it’s going”. And one day it will be. Gone. Forever!
It might take a day or a month or a year; but it will be gone!
Tell me, young mind, why is it that your soul has to chew hard on a truth before it believes it while it eats lies with such ease?
And even if there was never going to be another sunrise again…you still believed in dawn!
I wish that you would never have to experience pain, grief or anguish.
But you do.
The beautiful thing is that you are going to survive it.
Within only one man there are stories the universe could not contain…and still, You should write yours…
But you were, right there.
Just being. A flower in the darkness.
And I thought how cruel to put such a beautiful thing so far from the light.
But then, a thought like a whisper came to me…even in the darkest places, beauty gives birth to light.