TRUST MUSCLE: a journal entry

This is my chosen place to write—it is close to my heart: my trust muscle…I sit at the convergence of two rivers and marvel at the magic of the water’s constant motion—maybe this is a metaphor

I seek energy from the intricate swirls of wood composing the wharf like so many fractals…I seek insight from the water—a sense of longevity and purpose

I have come to accept a few growing truths…I have navigated the hurricane of manic depression and substance abuse over the past 17 years…I have lost people—lost relationships…comrades and friends I considered chosen family have erected harsh boundaries that felt cruel and frigid

But as a wise mentor shared with me, there are reasons why people enter our lives and reasons why they leave

I have come to accept the depth of this insight…I have let go of the self-centered assumption that all these people owed me something…and I have learned to value the compact character of my circle of close commitments

So my lacerated trust muscle rebuilds its strength…I expand its capacity by striking a balance between empathy—vicarious introspection—and clear intentional boundaries

I have been bruised in my efforts to support other young black men struggling with mental health and substance use—I feel used, betrayed, violated, and bitter

But I must accept that I played a role in creating this drama through naive enabling…I must accept this and forgive—but that does not mean opening my door or answering my phone at 2 am

I see light reverberating across the water in conduits of silver…I feel my heart—my trust muscle—conjuring a sacred robe of violet velvet

My trust muscle draws strength from these convergent rivers—it grows and builds its fortifications…guided by my higher power, I craft the scaffolding of the life I envision–rooted in the strengths of the life I have built

Images are by @MiamiLux_ on IG or twitter



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