When you think you will collapse from adversity,
let your inner fire surge with intensity.

Let it drive your body and your mind ever further.

The only thing that exists is the inner fire,
the union of breath,
body,
and fierceness.

Revel in challenge.

Each star is a memory,
a thought,
a feeling.

Joy is one star,
anger another star,
delight another.

And so on and so on.

Look at the constellations of you.

You see a present moon and feel sadness that there is so little light,
and so much darkness.

You want to lie back and admire the view.

I know you can't see the ground in the dark,
that it feels hard and cold beneath your feet.

I know you want to avoid further discomfort.

But you've been standing for so long.

Your feet ache,
your knees ache.

There's a tremble in your legs.

Your body feels like too much to hold up against the force of gravity.

And there's a heavy scone in your heart.

You want nothing more than to lie down.

When,
you think you will collapse,
there is strength in standing hold and there is strength,
in surrender.

It's okay to lie down.

It's okay to feel what you are feeling.

Rest your feet.

Rest your weary bones.

Allow your soul to be within yourself.

It's okay to lie down.

It's okay to feel what you are feeling.

I know you can't see the ground in the dark.

But as you lie down,
it feels like a bend of the softest,
most velvety.

It is neither cold nor warm.

It just is.

Feel the release, the surrender,
in your body.

It's like a sigh of relief.

Like cool water on a hot day.

Like the soothing warmth of a bath,
when your muscles are sore.

Like the first,
cascading descent of a tear,
when you finally let yourself rot.

You will lose your mind.