I wish sometimes I could peel away my scars like scabs.
Or shed them like old skin...
Watch them fall away and evaporate into dust,
Leaving no traces of their prior existence.
I wish my scars weren't so deeply embedded,
That they would stop choosing when to appear 'healed' and when to resurface...
Causing more damage, than good.
Bringing it's past injuries and burdens and slights into the present,
Tainting the beauty and possibilities of a present situation.
I wish I were constantly able to wear the strength of my scars...
Because despite how much they haunt us,
They have such resilience and longevity... Bravado...
.... And guts...
Constantly reminding us that they aren't going anywhere.
Constantly showing us that they, these scars are apart of us....
Apart of our package,
Apart of our spirit,
Our demeanour...
Our past, present and future...
And that ultimately, if we have any intentions of Truly living,
Truly loving,
Truly 'Be'-ing...
Then we have to acknowledge them... Embrace them,
Learn from them,
Respect. Them.
Because it is these very scars that help us to identify missing pieces of ourselves.
The parts of ourselves that need to be fulfilled...
Made complete.
It is these scars that allow us the wisdom of 'self' and recognition of other scarred and kindred souls,
That compliment our jagged puzzle pieces...
That soothe our hurricanes and nurture our embers of awareness and love.
It is these scars, That once left us ripped open and bleeding... Lifeless...
It is these scars that connect us,
Wraps us up in its cocoon of pain, anger and regret,
And slowly,
Patiently,
Over time...
Releases us...
Healed.
And Loved.
And grateful to just 'Be'.
-Y. Salmon
*Original image courtesy of @rowan_newton via @instagrafite
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