Lately, I feel free. A stripped naked in front of a crowd kind of free, with zero sensation of embarrassment. I feel free because I feel comfortable with saying and putting out there that I am not always utterly delighted, that life is far from flawless and I am still aching. I still have self-work, readjusting and realigning to do; as we all do.
I want to be able to knock on my neighbors door and really sit down with them, even when we’re strangers. I want to be able to openly, deeply speak about who we are and why we are who we are, while we point out the damaged, scarred and torn open skin that mend the slivers of our existence into one human experience. I want to know your history, where you came from and how you were brought up. Your occupation and level of education means nothing to me.
Let’s open each other’s ribcages; like a gate to our backyards. Let me in so that I can learn why your garden is half droopy and dead. I want to sit in your garden for a while so that I too, can understand all of you. I want to let you know that half of my garden probably mimics yours. Let me water you with my tears, love and light so that your garden grows back, but into a backyard full of them with nothing left to see.
We’re all in this together, whether you think so or not. Let’s start being that. Together, as neighbors.