You are not one of the many. There have never been many of you. You will never be many. â You were born to be yourself. All of us. Without the slightest exception.
All of you have come to this world to be the most throbbing-bleeding-loving-crying-feeling creatures.
And if someone tells you that you are too many people like you, then this is the only truth that you need to remember: it is highly probable that these people will never be enough for you in life.
âBecause you are the sun, and the moon, and the stars. You are the force that controls the ebb and flow. You are an unrestrained howl at a full moon. You are the essence of ecstatic dance. You are heat and sweat and fire, and gentleness and courage, and bliss and an ocean of tears.
You are everything.
You are the mother of us all and the daughter of the universe.
You go through shadows and light.
You burn and reborn again, like phoenix, keeping your hand on the pulse of the world.
You make the gods tremble.
And this, my dear, is the border that you cross and this is why many people become insanely uncomfortable. It makes them jump and push you away. Because the way you dance with your shadow and the unwavering acceptance of your brightness makes them come into contact with an extraordinary space that delights them and horrifies at the same time. Your very existence makes them take a step to a place that they are not ready to see. â
Because, as the depths of the ocean are your home, you will never be simple.
But dear, you didnât come to this world to be simple. You are here for much more.
Because you are a destroyer of borders.
You are the truth seeker.
You are temptation and the heat.
You are a mirror and a sorceress, and inside you is a whirlpool of the power of millennia.
So no, you're not a just another simple creature.
But in all this truth, please do not think that you do not deserve a deep inner lightness. Do not let them convince you for a minute that you will never find a lover who will never demand that you minimize yourself or calm the storm inside of you or suppress your extravagant love.
Because, my girl, it is a complete nonsense.
Somewhere out there is love meant only for you. Which expresses itself in the same way as you do, in poetry, candle wax and stardust. Which runs out in the same way at night to howl at the moon, which sings mantras and talks with ancestors. And this love, when you find him or her, they will see you and instantly recognize you just the way you are. And they will say "yes" to you: "Yes, I will go with you there. I was waiting for this."
But until this happens, I want you to do this. For me and for every woman who thinks she is only one in the many.
Collect all the ashes of your too big and broken heart and light the flames. And with this action you will call others along, and you will sing a song that will bring us all home. â
And then release into the world all that is infinite and ideal, all that which is too much inside of you: You go and love too much, and cry too much, and curse too much. Fall in love too quickly and be sad as often as you want, and laugh too loudly and determine the exact conditions necessary for your own existence.
Do not even think to live differently.
Because we need you exactly the way you are. Each one of us, man or woman. You are our reminder in the most difficult moments that we are just the way we should be.
Each one of us.
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