And... All the things I never said | Poetry and Spoken Word

How weird is timing?

I recently re-found a piece of writing I wrote a year after setting off on my Europe trip in 2014. It was... everything. I was 22 and stupid and finally done with my degree and itching out of my skin.

A year ago, I set sail.

Find more at www.zoewinther.com

Okay full disclosure,

this is one of those days where I'm fully in tune with the anger of a million generations of women. You've been warned. 

Ahh,

is there anything like a little retrograde to shine a mirror up to all the places you’ve been kidding yourself into believing you’ve been working hard on but maybe you’ve been letting some bad habits slide for a little too long?

I feel like I’m being tested in every area of my life. Some parts are flowing easily and I’m passing with flying colours, but some parts are HARD and I’m reminded how far I have to go.

As many of you know, this year I’ve been wrapping myself in personal development and the healing of old wounds like a caterpillar in a chrysalis about to start dissolving into gut soup in order to rebuild. 

I always thought caterpillars kind of just grew wings in their cocooned winters. Nope. Gut soup and total reassembly.

I’m learning how writing can turn my scorched earth into disco-dancing wildflowers. 

I’m learning how to build nests for imminent phoenixes circling like storms, or symphonies. 

I’m learning how to die, everyday, and dance with my devils around every fresh tombstone like an ancestor appearing in the flames of a million campfires. 

The last ten days have expertly sliced me in half, scooped out my insides, sloshed them around in a blender, poured them back in and then sewn me up again.

I feel so different, but so calm. Home.

This time last year, I started sending out newsletters full of love notes and poetry.

They followed my journey of healing, and now I'm being called to reflect and speak life into them. To continue the path.