I realized this past weekend that the cause of all my troubles is my affiliation with the devil. A lot of us walk around nursing his words that turn us to injury, and we let those injuries burrow deeper into our bodies until it affects us not just spiritually, but in a physical way. We get anxious and nervous; we withdraw from people; and we continuously do nothing about it. We tug him around like an angry pet who, no matter how many times he bites us, we refuse to dislodge from our lives. The more we affiliate ourselves with him instead of repel, ignore, turn our trust to God, the further we whittle away into a brown, crumpled leaf that cracks and breaks under the pressure of bigger shoes we incessantly crawl underneath. He feasts on our mentality, making us feel lesser, undeserved, incapable. He does all these things, you see, because we let him know how he affects us. We let him into our minds, and through that medium he works his way to our hearts where he tries his damnedest to quench the power organ of our body and soul. And when our brain and heart have lost their connection, we lose ourselves.
Oftentimes, my brain and heart like to act independently. The communication between them is filled with sharp, brusque static. My thoughts don’t often make sense rationally, and my mind barely knows how to exist in tandem with my heart, and my heart – struck with fear – doesn’t know what to do with itself without its counterpart. So I walk around, uncertain, fearful, comfortable in my routine. I don’t know what it means to be strong, independent, fierce. I know what it means to harbor, hover, suffocate. I know what it means to feel trapped by thoughts. They flow to the cavity, but find blockage and start to pile up against each other where thoughts get jumbled and illogical and confused. When something gets scary, I want to clam up and break down. I don’t know what it means to break out and be fearless.
But I want to know. I want to be. There’s nothing more frightening than thinking I’ll be this way forever. I want to be Hermoine and Jane and Scout and Alice. I want to know who I am when I look in the mirror. I want to know who I am when there’s no reflection on which to rely.
