Connected: a daily prompt

The thread, the thinnest material between your heart and mine, your skin and mine, your mind and mine…I heard that snap, my thread simply cannot bear that weight, the guilt, the anger, the worry.  I never should have tried.  The thread never really existed, it was never really built. There was you and there is me. Sweet disconnect.

There is another way.  The rope between me and them, a bear fighting all odds to find hers – the woods forboding, cold, uncaring, have to give way, she won´t leave them in peace if they don´t.  She is a fighter, and there is nothing more inspiring than a good fight, this is it.

A woman in a foreign land is a force to be reckoned with, in case you didn´t already know. She has connected to herself in the most integral way possible.  She has become that version of herself that could never exist in your house, under your rules, consuming your food, she couldn´t be, because you wouldn´t let her.  She just survived the carelessness of words hurled to hurt, the pain of hands that should´ve carressed that did anything but, and now to connect to the exquisite delicate touch and words found here, never there.

Survival is one thing, thriving is quite another and the connection between her and success started out tenuous, just to get the momentum right, to build on itself, braid its pieces together, stronger than before because there are bridges to build and bridges to burn.  And she knows that now, more than ever, the bridges burnt mean just as much as those built.  The relief of watching ashes gather where there was no life, to end the cruelty of a cycle of defense, to be free of that which never constructed, only destroyed.  She decides now, with full mind and glory that which she builds.  The invisible strands that stacked together are stronger than anything she could have imagined.  The support from people, some half a world away who would do almost anything to comfort and soothe, the same people she hid her life from because of shame, because of doubt.  That glorious moment when the sun radiated its light beyond  your shadow of abuse, and discovered her standing there, unafraid!

The nothing that forms into something, the connection between her world and THE WORLD growing stronger all the time, all before that thread snapped.  The ropes and chains that have formed in the interim, the knowing that anything is possible. Disconnection that leads to ultimate salvation and to connect again, herself, herself and all that it entails, to appreciate beauty, hers and that of those around her, the mountains, the air, the breath that rouses her from peaceful sleep to confront the world of choices with love. Simply delicious this connection born from disconnection.

Connected

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