“The Weight You Carry” An Experiment in Collective Healing...

So! I know -- not a great way to begin a sentence. Bear with me :)

I have been feeling a lot lately (not that I am not always feeling a lot, lately, lol) and I thought "why don't I see if reaching out to the world via social media will do anything for me." Maybe even reduce the intensity of that false knowing (the belief that you are alone in "this.") Well, I am not famous, I don't know how to work the algorithm (yes, I need to hire a resident six year old. I'll get right on it!) And, I don't particularly think I'm that interesting -- the kind of interesting that goes viral, I mean.

But, I do have this platform...

If you're here, and reading this, this is for you. Hope it helps. Below is the post I made on social media, and below that is the poem I wrote and shared in that post. If you are so inclined, feel free to join in the experiment.

Cheers,

Aimi

An Experiment in Collective Healing

This poem came from a tender place — that space between exhaustion and becoming, I think. I'm inviting you to help carry it forward. It'd mean a lot.

Add a word, a line, a stanza. Sign your name. Be part of this thread of care, as I'd like to call it This isn’t about being “a poet.” Just share from the heart — even a single word, a line, a moment. We’re building something together. Add your verse in the comments, so others can comment and continue the thread.

Don't overthink it. Just share what rises up. And if it speaks to you, pass it on. Invite others to comment. Let’s see what we can build/create, together. Please. And, thank you

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“The Weight You Carry”

~Aimiende Negbenebor Sela 

You do not need a reason

for your tired bones this season

No gold stars to earn,

for that chest-ache, I know it burns

This world does asks too much,

And then forgets to say thank you

But I see you — braving the day, cradling the night

A broken heart splayed, kindness still spilling out

You keep showing up, though forgotten

You, made of tenderness, armor-less

You call this mediocre

I call it miraculous

Even now,

when sweet silence grows louder

and the sky seems to have forgotten your name,

you choose still to love, to hope, to try

And maybe that’s the kind of holy

no one writes about in story —

the quiet kind

That saves without ever being saved

So tonight, let the moon hold you

And know this: You have not failed

You are simply becoming

And the world is better because you’re here, in it

A friend, Franklin on Instagram, added the line: "Because you are you." to that last line :)