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seeing the superhero

*revisiting a piece originally published in Crossin(G)enres
A good place to begin in restarting my blog

from the series: Brave House Secrets

her graphite lips and charcoal fingers,
stain the paper with her heart;
and the sun rises, and life becomes
uncultivated shirtsleeves
dripping her pink-reds
breadth of alpha
leaving omega
within protections made of blue.

(s)uperhero ┬ęCKS

cobalt blue made pink made blue

Do you ever practice in front of a mirror? Anything? Words, gestures, necessity? Do you look in a mirror? Do you see yourself? Do you truly see; just how beautiful you are?

I face the mirror. I make no eye contact with myself. I make no eye contact with you. Tears fall and drip onto my collar bone. Slightly cold; weighty; they are. (Drawing 1,1,2,3,5,8, CKS, 2016)

(s)uperhero, lower case, universal and inclusive. (S)uperhero, capital S, restrictive; as in the difference between (c)atholic and (C)atholic. Yes, it is on purpose. No, it is not a typo. I get it. People, particularly English professors, like to correct my grammar, spelling, and general use of the English language. I do not wish you distress, however, this is my writing. Please, take a few deep breaths and allow your mind to open. Allow your mind to play with what is before you. It is fun, moving, and deeply passionate.

These things, as mentioned above, I indeed practice. I practice upright talking. I practice owning my own self; body, mind, and spirit. Mirrors are not just for narcissistic vanity. They remind us to stop for pause once in a while. They can help us see our inner (s)uperhero.

Amazing things happen within this process. Life becomes a mirror. We are able to see ourselves reflected in others and others reflected within us. Such reflections enables us to see the universal (s)uperhero; change becomes inevitable. see love; feel love; act with love. My quick tongue softens, and I accept awareness of both my actions which are helpful, and my actions which are less than helpful.
I say this, because I am not a giggly-eyed, stare passed offenses creature. Washing over horrific horrors. . .

I am not the friend who says, “Don’t worry, it will be fine.” I am not the friend blowing sunshine where it does not shine. I will sit beside you. I will hug you; without words. I am okay with heavy silence. I will text you just to say, “hi, thinking about you.”

I say these things, why? People say to me, “I never know what to say.” “I just can’t stand to see them hurting.” “I feel at a loss as what to do.” These words apply to any situation. A person abused, ill, or having lost someone. I have said all these words.

It is all the same emotions of loss, hurt, anger, fear, and anxiety. I speak of this often. There is no us/them. We, have these emotions. We, have emotions of joy, happiness, and gratitude as well.

All this can sink into our bones; the armature of our existence. Loud Silence of (s)uperheros. It starts here; comfort within. Me, you, standing in front of the mirror; looking deep into our own eyes; seeing the beauty of our own bodies; the hurt, the joy; sloughing off separations of the “Or”. Looking for the similarities in the “And”. Our shoulders straighten, our chin raises; maybe we crack a smile. Go ahead; give yourself a little eyebrow raise, and a smirk that says, “oh yes, we got this. We can do this.”

Indeed, it does not mean we do not protect ourselves. We are not doormats. Emotionally, one way I protect myself is the visualization of a protective cobalt blue shield surrounding my body. I move the energies within. I breath it in, and I breath it out. My heart slows its rhythm. My mouth relaxes into a smile. Yes, my heart says.

We are enough. I am enough. You are enough.
Our dreams matter. My dreams matter. Your dreams matter!
My heart, as always, wears on paper sleeves.
I see you. I love you. I thank you.

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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