i have good moments and bad moments each day.

in the good moments, i have great clarity even though it's sad. i know that i tried my best, my intentions were good, and there was great love there, but at the end of the day, what needs to happen will take time, desire on his part and a great deal of strength and faith to go to places that are daunting and will give him every reason to quit, and it's a process that i can only support from a distance because it's a journey into himself, his past and his future he will have to embark without me if something of true value and power is to be brought back. it's the journey of reintegration and with it, the prize of great wisdom, wholeness, magic and peace. it is hard for me because i know there's nothing else i can do anymore but wait and see. the things that give me strength are that i know others who have gone into the fear to reclaim themselves and have come back safely, changed and whole with the treasure of greater confidence and peace. my brother. my father. i saw them come through the door.

in quiet moments, i pray to god to give him the strength to do what his heart sees, the faith to believe in himself and his path, and the clarity to know that the obstacles must appear insurmountable and devastating to test how much he wants what he thinks he wants and how much he's willing to trust and believe. impossible is illusion created by the reign of fear. but sadly, sometimes fear is introduced to our lives so early on, that it feels like death to imagine losing the only companion one has always had in the darkest, loneliest of nights. sometimes fear is the only thing a person knows, a shadow so loyal that it attacks even those who come with light. but clear eyes and full hearts can not lose, fighting their way through darkness.

throughout my life, i've dropped many sets of keys into the ocean feeling that if i were to ever find them again, somehow by their mysterious journey through the unknown they would suddenly be capable of opening the right doors. i've also known that to believe this is possible, would require a belief in miracles. staring at murky water and an impossible infinity contained only by the sound of something deep inside myself crumbling, i think of miracles. not just the talk and promises of miracles. but the possibility of a true miracle that i can see and feel and know without a doubt.