a whippoorwill tuesday

Hammock swinging in a stiff spring breeze, Tarzan shouts and cannonball splashes echoing across blue-green expanse… so much life, so much color, so much being. But my will to play ran away a month ago. The temptation to be frustrated with how I’m me nips viciously at my insides, whispering shame–why can’t you be like them? why are you so weak? But I push it away and listen to the sound of the trees talking.

It is entirely unfair for one human to compare herself to another.

Utterly, encompassingly out of context and body. One can only contrast, carefully, one’s present self with one’s past. Circumstance is key. I speak it to my heart, firmly and clearly. you are here. you are freely breathing big lungfuls of sweet, wild air. you are not in your dorm, or your bedroom. you are miles from your city. you are outside. you are with best kinds of friends. you are in a place of beauty and healing, a place that has always meant magic and home to you.

this place does not demand that you be happy.

these people don’t expect sky-high energy levels and a smile plastered on your face.

this God does not command that you be whole.

and neither, therefore, should you.

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