Nothing is too heavy for those who have wings

I am not here for motivation.
I have played that role too many times, offering light only to watch it thin out before it reached anyone who could use it. Somewhere along the way, I began mistaking effort for impact, and impact for proof.

I am here for truth.
For expression that does not ask to be useful.
For fusing the worlds I inhabit until the pattern belongs only to me. And even then, understanding may not be the point. Perhaps being human is. We ask far too much of fragile, organic matter anyway.

So I choose to live inside my knowing without gripping it too tightly, aware that anything worth holding must also be allowed to move.
Everything does.

Hurt.
Pain.
Praise.
The comedy disguised as criticism.
All of it passes.

Which is why I am about to go buy incense – just to make the symbolism literal.

I know how opinionated I can sound. What is less visible is how temporary those opinions are. They are weather patterns. My deeper commitments, the steady flame beneath them, are the climate.

Some people experience perception as a flavor that never fades.
For me, that sounds both novel and unbearable.
Change is the only constant I trust.

I have been wrong many times. I will be wrong many more.
If you ever thought I believed otherwise, consider this your release.
And if you would like, you can email me. Perhaps we can be wrong together.