It is a long road.
Some days, I yearn to s t o p for a moment and rely on my subconscious. But I know what is waiting eagerly for me to call upon it for guidance, to offer some false sense of comfort or security. It is these times that I am most vulnerable. It is these times I am leaving a crack for it to sneak through – I’ve seen it seep inside these cracks, creating ripples that reach wider and wider, until I can no longer tell where it ends and I begin.
If I make myself still, I can hear the battle on these days. Even at night I dream of war, sometimes. It used to require no more than a whisper for me to listen – and I could do nothing but comply, and follow, and be sorry. Each day was the same, only with less of my own power and fewer weapons.
Now, I have a choice. I can choose to call upon myself instead and I can choose to listen. I can defend those moments of quiet – when I can stand and relish in moments that I am free.