I want this to be a life preserver for the people who are tourists in their own bodies. For the people who have lost all maps, forgotten the way home too many times. No matter where you are, you are just arriving. And you are more vivid and alive than you have ever been. Just look at you.
Somewhere along the line we were taught a really stupid and ugly lie that we are only as good as who we have been or who we are becoming. But I am here to say, that we are only as good as we are in this very moment. This dull and glittering moment. Who we are now- it is everything we could possibly need.
You do not find joy in time traveling back. You do not find a good belly laugh by rushing to the punch line. You will not learn about a place by memorizing the map- So when you have become a tourist in your own body, put down the compass and seek small pretty things. Let yourself shatter because of them. Crumble in the presence of a field of flowers, melt into yourself when someone is kind to you. Listen to the adrenaline in your heartbeat when you've finished crying.
If I have learned one thing in getting lost- it is this; When you set things down, you fall in love with your journey. Your ugly and billowing, beautiful and honest, sparkly journey. Your destination will often look a lot like getting lost again. But you are always arriving. Over and over, to your very own journey.
I have always wandered back into strange light, an unexpected familiar, been invited back to who I am through big pain. I have never come to terms with my scars in the sparkly shiny moments. I love them best during the storm.