After so many years, I was surprised
that the self I built in order to survive
was only a tent that had no roof. And
finally looking up, I learned from the
stars how to stay in place and whisper my
light. And loosening my grip, I found the
things I held, that I thought would protect,
had grown so heavy, I had to put them down.
My beliefs had rusted into a sword too dull
to cut anything. And my secrets had blossom-
ed and withered inside my little hand. So I
took the beliefs turned weapons apart, and
washed the dead secrets from my heart.
After so much work to keep things out,
it scared me to realize—there was no
opening to my tent. And so with love,
this very day, I rip a hole in my
oldest self, so I can get out and
drink of the world.
– Mark Nepo, “A New Thought”