The Conversation We Hold: A Spoken Word Journey

This is a conversation between the person you were and the person you are,

Interrupted by the person you are becoming.

It starts with a question,

Whispered in the quiet.

Do I know you anymore?

The past holds a version of us,

One that built armor out of necessity,

One that survived.

It speaks in echoes of not enough,

And we,

In the present,

Feel its weight.

We carry its stories in our shoulders,

Its doubts in the pit of our stomachs.

We try to muffle them,

To ignore them.

We try to turn down the volume of the past.

But what if we didn't fight it?

What if we simply gave it a space to be?

Imagine that old story,

That lingering fear,

Not as part of you,

But as something you hold.

Cradle it in your palms,

Give it room,

Let it breathe.

Watch it as it forms a fragile orb of light.

Acknowledge its presence without letting it define you.

This is the weight you have carried.

This is the narrative you have outgrown.

And now,

With a deep,

Gentle breath,

Watch it transform.

The orb becomes a balloon that you color with your release.

Feel its lightness,

Its desire to be free.

And on your exhale,

Let your fingers softly part.

Give it a tiny launch in the vast sky.

Watch it float further and further,

Not erased,

But released,

Creating a sacred space between you and what was.

And into that new space,

Plant a seed.

A seed of gratitude.

Thank your body.

Thank your hands for that release.

Your lungs for that breath.

Your heart that feels.

Thank your past self for their courage.

They got you here.

For you are not just where you are.

You are the bridge between what was and what will be.

You are the quiet hope in the stillness.

The gentle movement in the hesitation.

The light acknowledging the darkness.

You are the conversation.

And you are the peace that comes from listening.

With love and resilience.