The falling is written, preordained and assigned to us long before we’re a whisper of a thought, a tiny hinting glimmer in our parent’s eyes. The crashes are destined, they will come despite what we prepare for, they will come despite our best intentions, our talents, our desperate pleas to spare this, if only this time around. We fall, we’re made this way, but it is not this toppling that defines us, that draws the borders around the people we are. It’s the rising. It has always been the rising.
I call us phoenix, those made of ash reborn, those shaped by the misfortunes, constructed and glued back together by the strength in our resiliency. When we know we will fall, we know we can define ourselves by the ferocity in which we stand back up. Over and again, despite all, we stand back up. Know this, hold it tight as you tip backwards towards the earth once more, know this, and wait for your moment to pick yourself back up. This, is who you are.
How we rise from it
the fall we swore would end us,
explains who we are.
Haiku on Life by Tyler Knott Gregson
Song of the Day
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