Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

Where you begin or rise, where you start or initiate again, everything you open up like flowers, falling rain on an awaited storm are for where you close out or phase away, terminate or simply wrap up, even in places where you once marveled as you planted away.

All of this help to shape stories of how to persist and survive again, how to continue and breath again, how to kick off and set up again, knowing that legions will gather all around you again, waiting for the day when your eyes open again, like on the day you begin again, with a vial of invisible ink, ready to story all the ways to endure again. How lucky to have come this far, focused only on things unseen, knowing they last forever even as you begin again. So today, your stories will do. All your stories and consider yourself a heart, that will beat on again. But what will happen when you awaken to your rise again?

If beginnings are like mornings, genesis or creation, the very act of looking at your struggles again, your strength again, can thwart any ounce of silence again. So where you take on and embrace again, all the ways you organize and establish again, every single way you enlarge and expand again, underneath a diaspora of stars glistening for you again, are for where your silence and survival sleep together again. A whole new story is beginning again here. Begin it here, again…

It’s been one week and the rise is super stellar. There is organization and support, kindness and care, humanity on display for things simple and complex. I have waited for this kind of support for so long. Waited because I was raised in a system were competent service was the norm. To begin again here with this kind of diligent care is to know that all the struggles of the past were worth it. And the future is unbearably bright, all because I gifted myself the audacity to begin again.