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I wonder what would happen if we were honest. Really honest.
About how we felt. About how we've failed. About how it feels to fail and then try pick ourselves back up. Or, perhaps, to be picked up and held. Steady. Safe. Loved. Yes - even in our broken, faulty, fumbling state. If we were honest enough to be like that... What would happen? I've been thinking about honesty and failing for a while now.
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I read an article this morning as I was scanning the news. It was about the 3am issue. That unsettling time of night when we wake, all alone with the darkness and our thoughts, and face the hard truths of who we 'know' ourselves to be.
It's at this time of night that our thoughts often spiral into negativity. We worry, we stress, we reimagine conversations and mistakes, and all the positive self talk we bolster ourselves up with during the day feels suddenly shallow and fake. 3am isn't fun. |
The Penny DropsIn high school I used to write what I'd call 'thinks' - little bits of writing about whatever topic or issue I was mulling over at the time. I still write these little pieces. Categories
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