It’s a bit like turning the heat up on a pot of frogs. Which, come to think of it, is a silly idea really.
You can be in that state of mind only for so long. Push you way past any limits you ever dared to think you had and then some.
In time the water will get so hot, that even though you have trained your mind to a mental state of resistance, your body will eventually tap out.
When that tap out happens, may the strength of your mind be enough to land you in the shade with plenty of tea and hands to hold.
We like to think it’s smooth sailing after the landing, if only that were the case.
The reality of the situation will only come to be as the breeze blows over you and your wounds get attended to.
Not just some quick miracle healing. No, that would shell shock the system and dismiss the beauty in forming and shaping of each scar individually.
As your hands get held and your wounds begin to seal, the taste of the tea becomes sweet, and you begin to acknowledge the shade not just as a dark cloud keeping you from the sun, but as a protection from more heat.
In that place, people may come and people may go, some bringing salve and others tearing the band-aid off carelessly. Revealing those never ending scars.
In time, that will matter less.
As the feelings start to return, so will your strength. Emotional, mental and physical.
Enough so, that you may come to a place of recognizing that many of those scars won’t be going anywhere for years to come. But you are able to look at them no longer as to what happened in that pot, but as to what happened under that tree.
And oh the beauty of you sitting under that tree, grasping the hands of so many hot pot frogs to follow.
There you will let your ever faded scars shine bright on the ever gaping wounds of those in your presence.
How sweet the tea will be!
Until next time,