the parts that pull.

a day of deep trust
beneath bright sunlight.
quickly followed by
a day of deep fear
under dark and clouded skies.

the oscillation begins.
a fight.
a tug of war.

in one moment,
pulled by a confident uncertainty.
in the next,
drawn toward an enduring trust.

a kind of whiplash
from the constant
back and forth,
back and forth.

an honest confrontation with the self,
urging me to notice
this war within
and the ways it shapes me.

to notice how quickly fear rises.
urging me.
taunting me.
pushing me to give up.
to release the rope.
to believe the discomfort of the struggle
is the answer,
instead of the process.

but the trusting self
leans in and whispers:
there is another way.

you do not have to keep pulling.
you can move forward
despite the fear.
despite all the parts within you.

tend to the fear.
what is it trying to say?
where does this unbelief begin?
what remains unhealed?
what is the struggle teaching?

and in this turning toward,
you begin to learn
that fear is often
an untended wound
asking only for loving attention,
not a fight.

for it carries a message.
that is how it came to be.

and through attention,
you begin to see
that fear has only ever
tried to protect you.
though blinded by its own history.
its own origin story,
appearing where it no longer belongs,
yet well-intentioned all the same.

seeing fear through new eyes
makes room for transformation.

what was once a fight,
a war within,
becomes a meeting.
a sitting with.
a willingness to listen
to what fear has to say.

and in listening,
a new message arrives.
a new way of relating emerges.
one not shaped by resistance,
but by understanding.