Next Time

Next time,

I’ll take the time to really see things,

The magnolia tree in the morning light,

The calloused hands of my brother, a potter,

The rabbit poised in the lilac field at dusk,

The moon, shining silver, on the water at night.

Next time, I’ll be at peace in my body.

I’ll learn to see it as a friend, not an enemy or an extension of the shame I feel about myself.

I’ll take the time to feel the pulse of my own beating heart,

I’ll loosen the bindings from my hands and heart, I’ll put them on the mulch pile.

I’ll know that everything is necessary nourishment for something else.

Next time, I’ll listen.

To birds. To children. To my own heart.

I’ll believe people when they say ‘I love you’.

I’ll ask for help, and give it freely.

I’ll sing, and often.

I won’t be so afraid,

I’ll be stronger, and kinder.

I’ll build a home within myself,

I won’t run away.

Next time, I’ll finish the book.

I’ll leave work early,

I’ll stop reading the news,

I’ll throw away the things I’ve hung onto, that have grown so heavy.

I’ll put down the blade that I’ve squeezed in my palm, that’s drawn blood,

I’ll show someone the scars, I’ll let them heal.

Next time, I’ll really be free.

I’ll buy my favourite clothes, and wear them, and ruin them with grass stains.

I’ll call all my friends on their birthdays.

I’ll say I love you whenever I feel it.

I’ll eat an orange and let the juice drip freely.

I’ll memorise the faces of those I love until they shine in my mind like the sun.

Next time, I’ll learn to pray.

I’ll look for answers in the quiet, soft places.

In the silence between words, in the trees, in the light.

I’ll learn to see and hold the precious fragility of every tear, every pain.

I’ll count every year with reverence, not dread.

Next time, I’ll be quiet. I’ll be loud.

I won’t shrink myself,

I won’t hide away in darkness.

I’ll be courageous, I’ll let my heart break open and be wide enough to hold everything.

Next time, I’ll play.

I’ll be silly, and also wise.

I’ll laugh without inhibition, and weep without inhibition too.

I’ll let go of dead-end ambition.

I’ll take myself out into the morning sun and smile.

Next time, I’ll cherish my life,

I’ll see it as a gift, not a pain or punishment. I won’t throw it away.

I won’t wish for more chances.

Next time, I’ll dive into life, like the ocean on a hot summer day.

Next time, I hope we meet again.

I hope we recognise each other.

I hope we both make it through,

Next time.

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