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  • Writer's picturePatricia Ballentine

Ode to my Sisters and Brothers who Fall

Ode to my sister and brother fallers:

Those of us who either jumped

Or think we were pushed into the next turning in the cycle of change.

We are freefalling and sometimes

It is messy

It is painful

And it wakes us up with floods of anxiety in the middle of the night

Or replaces the sense of satisfied tired at the end of the day

With a wave of a need to stay up just a bit longer and do just a bit more.

There is a danger in attempting to wrap an experience in the language of beautiful when in fact.... it was not.

While we may strive to ever look onward and upward

And we speak the language of oneness...

We create a barrier between ourselves and those who truly desire

To know us well.

We may not be speaking authentically.

And when we speak the truth of the moment before the fall

We may be met with well intended affirmations of

It is all good

Everything happens for a reason

Hold the light

And we may even say those things ourselves and if we do...

May they truly be... what is in our heart of hearts.

For me....

What is true for me...

I jumped intentionally


And yet unprepared for some consequences.

My wings have not sprouted yet

And all the bones are in the air spinning in wild patterns

Not fitting yet into

A still unformed plan.

I can make it sound pretty

But pretty.... isn't where we touch beauty.

I may crash to the earth a bloody mess

And you will


Hear me say...

It is all good.

But it is mine.

So to my sister who is falling...

To my brother who is falling...


Right this minute...

I can absolutely be in the mess with you.

Because I own fully...

My own current messy fall.

Where we touch or see or hear each other

With flailing arms and

Blood curdling screams...

That is where we authentically meet.

I know who I am...

Do you know who you are?


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