Tag: soulmates

  • Tainting a beautiful soul

    Tainting a beautiful soul

    Betrayal of trust always cuts deeper than any other wound that we endure in life.

    A trust of the heart is an offering of the most sacred parts of who we are to those whom we believe will add to its beauty, and its peace.

    When it is held sacred by the ones with whom we share it, it explodes into fountains of light, beautifying everything that it touches…including the hurts of the past.

    When it is treated flippantly, it turns into caves of darkness, offering us protection from the shame of having had our sanctity violated by one so dear.

    From deep within that cave, any light that enters threatens to disembowel what little dignity we have left.

    Sometimes we flirt with that light, believing that it’s still possible to have the remnants of light in our soul join in the splendour of the beauty that we know is possible.

    For a while, we grow bold, believing that the sanctity of us may yet be cherished by another. Until we’re reminded that it is that same trust that created the space for the darkness of another to snuff out our light.

    So we withdraw. Any promises made to that point fade from view, and our trust becomes seasonal. Turning us into the darkness that seeks to destroy someone else’s light before they get a chance to destroy our own. Again.

    It’s an unintended vengeance against other than the brute that ravaged our soul. But it carries with it the promise of safety, and the promise of once more being whole.

    Thus, an unfulfilled vengeance, shreds a beautiful soul.

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • The broken cup

    The broken cup

    Too often, our focus is on how empty is our own cup.

    Sometimes it takes a while before we realise that we’re not taking care of ourselves as we lose ourselves in our concern for others.

    So we begin to focus on filling our cup so that the emotional fatigue can finally be overcome.

    Sadly, we don’t stop to consider if we’re capable of filling our cup because we don’t realise that it may be broken.

    Wounds from the past leave cracks and breaks in spaces that we hope others will mend, not realising that only we hold the key towards mending those cracks.

    Sometimes, we don’t realise that someone we love may have a broken cup, and we exhaust ourselves in trying to fill their cup, believing ourselves to be inadequate in our efforts to make them feel loved enough to want to love us in return.

    That’s why it’s important to heal before you try to find a home for your heart.

    And equally important is the realisation that sometimes it’s not your inadequacy that makes it difficult for them to love you back, but rather their belief in not being worthy of your love that prevents them from embracing you.

    Breathe, beloved…slow, rhythmic, deep breaths that fill those spaces left by the calloused hands that handled the most fragile parts of you.

    Breathe. Be whole. And then return to love.

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • The struggle of faith

    The struggle of faith

    It is our belief in the value of something that drives us towards fighting to protect it.

    We cherish that which we appreciate, and we appreciate that which we value.

    Call it conviction in the value of the outcome, or belief in the beauty of its truth. Whatever it is, it is that unwavering faith in what we cherish as a truth that spawns the trials that we face when protecting or defending that truth.

    As is often said, when you stand for nothing, you’ll fall for anything. What isn’t said often enough is that when you stand for something, you’ll be plagued by everything that is threatened by what you stand for.

    Such is the burden of faith.

    Whether it is faith in the divine, or faith in the beauty of creation, faith compels us to protect and nurture that which we hold dear.

    For those who lack such faith, destroying or abusing what we cherish goes unnoticed, leaving us to contend with the destruction they leave in the path of their obliviousness.

    We contend with their destruction because of our faith in the value of what they threaten to destroy.

    Thus, holding on to that faith becomes the trial itself, when letting go holds the promise of ease from those struggles.

    But ease itself holds no value if it leaves a gaping hole where we once had fulfilment or joy.

    That’s why we hold on to faith. Not because we are afraid of letting go, but because we are afraid of feeling empty, or unfulfilled, after having felt, even for a brief moment, complete.



  • Have a little faith

    Have a little faith

    Believing is not the same as faith. At least not in the way that I experience it.

    When I believe in something, it’s because I’ve attached evidence from previous experiences that convince me that what I believe to be true is probably true.

    While there is an element of faith to that, its not really faith. It’s more a belief based on deduction.

    Faith comes in when the evidence may conflict with the belief, but because everything we know to be true about it makes it impossible to believe anything else, it’s then that we develop the faith in believing that somehow, some way, the outcome is still possible.

    This is especially true when everything tells you that it’s impossible.

    Of course faith of a divine nature is different. But the above approach to faith is what determines how much we invest in others, or in what we believe is possible with them.

    Photo trivia : This is a table cloth that was woven by female prisoners in India. An endearing design with dark undertones.

  • Prisms of beauty

    Prisms of beauty

    If you keep chasing rainbows, you won’t find the time to notice that you’re the prism creating the beauty that you so desperately court.

    Breathe beloved, and pause for long enough to appreciate the beauty of you, despite the ugly of them.

    (From the sequel to An Incomplete Love Story that may never be written)

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock

  • Chasing ghosts

    Chasing ghosts

    Of the multiple lifetimes that I’ve endured, reality flirts between the beauty that I saw, and the ugly that I experienced. Sanity was relegated to an after thought when what I saw was a vision uniquely experienced by me. Too real to dismiss, but too fantastical to be believed.

    It’s the belief that I need to share it with others that taints the experience. But I often wonder if it’s really a belief, or is it a dictate of nature that I will remain incomplete if my experience remains my own. Is the purpose of life not to share our wonders with others?

    The pervasiveness of ugly has revealed the ugly side of ugly to me in moments when I was distracted by the beauty of a being. My fixation on beauty was never enough to turn their gaze away from the ugly that gripped their lives. Unfulfilled vengeance shreds a soul with the promise of making it whole.

    Fighting the shredding has left me chasing their ghosts of beauty while they invested in the ugly of being. But my ghosts, despite being beyond reach for an embrace, are mine to behold, and mine to court. Offering shards of light into their darkness, teasing them into the light for a few brief, magical moments, before they recede again, the fear of the light turning to darkness echoing the horror of hopes so often destroyed by the ugly of their past.

    This tug of war. This wretch between beauty and pain. If not for the beauty of the ghosts, sublimely serene and mesmerisingly aching with the promise of peace, succumbing to their ugly would have overtaken my tender soul. But tenderness is not formed through frailty. It is the deepest gashes that revealed the tenderness within, without which the hardened crust of my contact with the world would have had me convinced that my ghosts were mere apparitions, and their ugly was the only truth.

    The ghosts of the betrayers have unwittingly gifted me with the vision that they spurned. A vision of wondrous enchantment, seeing the tenderness of their soul, while they focus on the crust. Hope feels like a threat when the lifetimes that nag at my back remind me of the many occasions on which the ghosts were defeated, and the crust grew thicker over the beauty that I courted.

    Until now. Until my latest skirmishes with their darkness revealed an intensity of light so beautifully complete, that my strongest resolve to abandon it proves futile. A new tug of war has been birthed. This time, between my resolve to block out the ghosts and the beauty that they keep revealing in the silent, taunted moments when the world is asleep, and my unfailing desire to surrender to the ghost before I give up my own.

    The end is not near enough, and peace too far away.

  • It’s not always about you

    It’s not always about you

    The truth is, if you want to matter that much to someone else, shouldn’t they matter equally as much to you?

    If they do, and you find that they don’t have as much time for you as they used to, or are behaving differently to what you know them to be about, do you claim your privilege to be treated better than that, or do you show sincere concern for what they may be dealing with?

    Busting mental health myths is essential to break the cycle that feeds toxic victim mindsets.

    The problem with this meme is that is encourages self-centered perspectives and denies the struggles that someone else may be going through.

    Sometimes the ones we love may be so overwhelmed by what they’re going through that withdrawal from the world is the only way that they believe they can cope.

    It’s not about how much you may want them to lean on you, or take comfort from you. Sometimes, their battle with themselves drives them to want to protect others from the impact that it is having on them.

    Don’t be so quick to write people off. When you do that, you lose the right to ask others to give you the benefit of the doubt when you’re going through a struggle that no one else understands.

    Sacrificing what you need in favour of understanding someone you love, is sometimes the greatest gift of love you could give anyone. Even if they don’t realise it at the time.

    It’s about what you want to gift to them, not what you need from them that matters.


  • A silent betrayal

    A silent betrayal

    The betrayal of trust is not always due to blatant acts of dishonesty.

    Most often, it’s the silence or the restraint from a loved one when their words or their embrace is most needed.

    It’s the shrug when we reach out to them or offer them support, or the deliberate obliviousness when we express our need for them.

    It’s the trust that bonds hearts that is more fragile than the intellectual trust.

    Reconciling dishonesty is easy because we have tangible evidence to work with.

    Understanding what’s in someone’s heart when they keep it a secret, or when they become subdued after having been expressive, leads to more anguish than any lie of the tongue.

    It is the not knowing that tortures and tests the trust we once placed in someone, especially when all the evidence conflicts with their claims.

    That’s when breathing becomes a labour in search of love, and exhaling feels pointless.

    Photo credit : Adobe Stock