Poem.

for once in your life, can you do something for me,

can you value yourself,

can you breathe deep and stand straighter, taller and recognize that you are worth something,

that you don’t actually need 

someone else

to be you?

so go.

jump off that dock into that lake alone,

drink that tea wrapped in that blanket in the morning alone,

discover paris and london and budapest alone,

scream at the top of your lungs on the top of that mountain alone,

build something important alone,

memorize poetry alone,

save someone alone,

learn alone, 

create alone,

live alone,

cry alone,

laugh alone,

be

alone.

because being alone is not a sin,

it does not mean that you are worthless,

it is simply a state of being

that in fact defines a certain persistence that only the bold have.

in fact, being alone defines a soul that values itself.

so go.

I found this the other day, on my weekend excursion with Père and Mandy. We were in the middle of an hour of driving, crushed beneath the weight of the California redwoods forest and the anticipation of the sea, and I found it in my black moleskine. Tucked in the back with the smallest paintings. I wrote it in the throes of an especially trying week not too long ago, but when I was younger still and just learning that who I am and what I believe is not all godforsaken. For so long I stood on the cusp of despair in my walk with Christ, everyone's judgments smashing on the small of my back, and then I let go. I wrote things like this when I let go. When I discovered it was okay to not be perfect and that grace is real. When I fell in love with a carpenter and confessed it more. When I gave up and in and became better. 

Do better.

I live by those words. 

Do better, and, so go.