Growing up,
My mom told me I would grow scars
If I kept picking at scabs,
My skin becoming marked and marred.

Its best to pretend accidents don’t happen,
Place every misstep in a box and put it away.
Don’t touch it, refuse to look at it, “I’m too busy”
And pass up the chance to understand day after day.

The truth is opening up old wounds is painful,
Unattended injuries of the body, or the mind, fester.
Ghosts of regret and failure infect us all.
We lie awake at night, haunted by personal specters.

I remember once when I was young, I got angry
And threw a rock at a kid’s head.
One day I grew to regret my actions,
I took the rocks and built bridges instead.

I remember when I was a green leader,
I had plans and ideas so grand.
Leading to my own self-righteous downfall,
When I refused other’s helping hands.

I remember when I first felt the spark of passion,
My heart swelling too large for my chest.
When I began to put others in front of myself,
Despite my struggles, realizing I was truly blessed.

I thought I had the world figured out
since I was old enough to string together sentences.
Who I was, where I was going, what it took to be a good person.
Never understanding that it was all built on false pretenses.

It is only when we look back on our life,
Reflect on where we were and who we’ve been,
Do we truly become wiser leaders, better people, better versions of ourselves,
As we let enlightenment in.

Share →

Leave a Reply

Skip to toolbar