What do the skull and the darkness have to teach me?

I realize I have the power to bring an end to relationships, to habits, to ways of thinking. I have the power to destroy, the power of death. I also have the strength to accept the consequences of the death I bring. 

I respect the power of past versions of myself to express her will. 

I absorb and store the energy that is generated when I use my voice to assert my needs and desires. I grow stronger.

I embrace the softness and the hardness that I am. What does it mean to be soft and strong? Do I always need to tense against something? Can I soften into a voice, a posture, a presence that commands respect? What is deeper than the anger but doesn’t disrespect or disregard the anger?

Can I smile without using my mouth? Can I remain true to my naturalness in the presence of all? If I could walk and sit and dance and sing in a way that didn’t feel like a compromise, I feel I’d be much less angry and resentful.

Can I speak without stuttering and stumbling to try to avoid the perceived discomfort of being honest with another person? Can I be direct and calm?

Can I carry the light and weight of my truth? 

Show me how to have values that are solid and strong and dense like the bottom of the painting. What values allow me to rest and settle so I don’t feel like every time someone expresses differing convictions from mine, I feel like I’m being torn apart and have to go back to the drawing board. 

The woman in the painting looks like she is dense with personal convictions that ground her heavily so she can explore other dimensions safely without losing her sense of self. She is no longer a leaf in the wind, but roots in black dirt. 

Keeper of cosmic and common sense.

If logic and intuition fucked, her mind would be their baby.