I joined a mindfulness meditation group tonight for the first time. The teacher shared this sweet poem with us at the end, and I just had to pass it along. May we all remember the wild innate selves breathing under all those should be’s.
Remember who you are.
Not the shape others have put on
you, not the story they handed you,
not the lies or needs that were
pressed into your psyche.
Not even your own imagined ideas
of what you should be.
But the real you, the wild innate you
that is breathing under all those
should be’s, all those untruths.
Remember the feel of it, the shape of
it. Let it inhabit you, like golden
weeds rewilding the concrete.
Brigit Anna McNeill