My Writings

The Gift of Strength

Stop. Listen. Can you hear how different the melody is? Do you notice that it has changed? After so long, an unfamiliar tune. Ah, no, I must have heard it, now it sounds familiar, nearer than a mother’s milk, now it is mine, and then – it changes. Give me silence, that music terrifies me.

My muscles reverberate with it, shaking, chaos – overwhelming, eyes wide open, mindless, Alive. An explosion, coloring the universe in red, a third eye – now open, raging.


Death, you have come to me. Look at my hand, I wilfully let go. Do not come nearer. See, I am purified. See, my hands are empty – I seek not to bring any of the old into your tomorrow.

Born again, I am no one yet. It is all as I wish it. I can mould myself into any shape, I can assume any pose, I can learn any song, I can be whoever I wish to be. Freedom.

Terrible freedom, nothing burns with a flame more intense than yours. You are fragile peace. Too little, and you torture me, too much, and you torture me.

My task is to expand the circle of light around my head, to polish my vision, to cover myself with the holy oils, to draw the protective signs onto my joints, to draw the seal of the lord onto my face, and to pray. Then, challenging the coward in my heart, to strike him down.

And expand my own horizon,

my own capacity for freedom,

my strength in the face of adversity,

the pool of perseverance,

the gift of strength.


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