On a Favorite Team

The greatness is you.

It is in each motion done with your hands, in the letters you type and the strokes of lines.

It is in the thought behind the shapes that sometimes form easily, and in other times when there is nothing but you know you have to do something.

It is how even though it is so hard sometimes to open your eyes and do what you have to do, you do it and it’s sometimes good, and if it’s not, you accept that, even if it hurts a little bit. 

It is in the pure need to make something, from inside those folds in your brain that belong to only you and in your courage to share with others.

It is from when you were little - before you even knew you were little - and how you chose to keep following that thing you knew was you, and was different from other things.

It is because even though there were doubts from others you remembered what made you feel whole in times when you had some pieces missing and had to make sense of that.

It is in the sensitivity it takes to feel the world so deeply and hard, and in the ability to make others feel what you do, for small moments at a time.

It is in holding on to you while trying to prove it all in front of big, important faces.

It is in the knowing you have a permanent, exposed nerve and in order for it not to hurt you have to cap it up sometimes, sometimes longer than others. It is in thinking that maybe that’s better than never feeling it at all.

Thank you for sharing this wet-winged moth of a thing that is creating and living, and for flying anyways, and constantly proving, and moving, and sharing.

Thank you for scrunching down what is hard to get to and not losing what you know is it.

Thank you for being like an actual accordion, where you have to really squash it to make a sound, and learn how to make that sound work for others, even though it’s a natural lung to you, it’s a breathing and it’s not an option. 

Thank you for beautifying your visions when you don’t want to and the incredible trust you have to maintain in yourself.

Image via Ken Orvidas / www.orvidas.com