The last year and a half has been quite troubling for me. My constant struggles with a persistent illness that left me without the energy to do much – if anything – over an extended period of time was quite challenging. But what troubled me the most was not being able to physically stand by the friends who had to deal with the unbearable and horrifying pain that comes with loved ones’ departure. A few weeks ago, I heard the devastating news that the wife of a dear brother of mine had too much of a burden to keep on going. I was so emotionally ravaged that I kind of shut everything and everyone down, especially as I wrote about her in my upcoming book, explaining how utterly significant of a moment we had shared as a family when she offered me the “NOW” tattoo that I brace on my right wrist. It took me some time to open up again. I canceled the writing and recording I had scheduled, pushed everything back. And if I used to roll down with whatever punch was coming in my direction, this time, I didn’t want to fake it through, to pretend it was alright. I needed to face whatever feelings it created rather than run away from them.

It’s looking into that strange form of twisted emotions, chaotic and tangled, paralyzing me every time I dared dwell into them that I came up with the conclusion that only honest love has the ability to mend our hope for better days. That only the admission that I am fragile and so easily broken can offer freedom, even when the profound sentiment of powerlessness and helplessness seems impossible to escape from. It might not always feel like the pure affective emancipation we look for, but acceptance creates the driving force we need in order to move forward, as much as newfound peace gives us the strength to take another chance to share, to commune the rebirth of uplifting vibrations we believed were all but forever gone when we started to drift away from the light we used to follow… Until we can reach whatever it is we call home.