Accept No One’s Definition of You.

“Step back from the ledge!” begged the crowd.

It was cold and wet. Trepidation rained. Her heartbeat reverberated against her sweaty palms. Her breath was short and shallow.

In an instant she leaned forward, the pressures of holding it together crashed through.

She wasn’t falling.

She was soaring.

She let go of the crap weighing her down.

“It’s a bunch of bullshit,” she declared.

The cacophony inside was just that, noise. She laughed at the insight.

I will. I can. I am. I see.

I am worthy of love and not lies.

I am worthy of passion not manipulation.

I see strength in kindness.

I will succeed.

I am a survivor.

I am capable of the impossible.

“i will wade out

till my thighs are steeped in

burning flowers

i will take the sun in my mouth

and leap into the ripe air alive

with closing eyes.”

~ e.e. cummings

I will see above and filter out deceit. I will welcome you but I will not be your doormat.

As she shouted her decree, feathers grow. She sprouted wings and hovered effortlessly along the updraft.

Her momentum increased during the endless storms and the grey clouds of doubt turned to cerulean.

Cerulean is a color infused with depth and mystery. She mixed streaks of orange and red to chase the linger demons from their unrest.

The secrets she held so dearly to her heart were dispelled. It no longer blinded her. She shot each with an arrow from her ever-growing heart. Splinters of rage, from a place where the dead sound of a punch and the sharp taste of fear temporarily evaporated because pure love mellows the cavity of hurt.

We all have a few spaces where a lack of oxygen is akin to an extraterrestrial planet.

She transfused her focus and energized her weaknesses. She let go of organizing the illusions and took hold of her force. Lightning bolts of creativity sprung from her shadows.

She ripped the asphalt from her knees and spit fire onto her hands. She stepped over the hole of cyclical damnation and found feathers pointing to a new direction. She flew higher into the clouds before an intentional nosedive to pierce the remaining illusions:

“Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life, but define it yourself.” ~ Harvey S. Firestone

She breathed into the gullies and dark spaces of hell; memories can be an affliction. She took the fire within to create a focused volcano. It burst through the closed doors of shame. It lit the path to show the shadows, the bullies, the ones who proclaim righteousness and find fault with kindness.

“Courage is fire and bullying is smoke.” ~ Benjamin Disraeli

The real heroes and heroines are radiant, vibrant, caring, loving, humble and trustworthy. You can see and feel an aura of respect and nurturing. There’s a quality exempt of mixed messages. The power isn’t about control, it’s about giving and sharing. Not withholding as if only they carry a magical source.

We all carry a magical source. The magic is sparked when we accept our uniqueness and radiate our inner divine passions. We share our gifts and connect with a fierce loving quality.

“The challenge of leadership is to be strong, but not rude; be kind, but not weak; be bold, but not bully; be thoughtful, but not lazy; be humble, but not timid; be proud, but not arrogant; have humor but without folly.” ~ Jim Rohn

Shake the cobwebs from the rafters in your mind. Shake the shit that clutters your vision. Shake the debris piling against the foundation of your soul. Split the wood and create new, fresh and alive. Shatter the preconceived.

The script is never old, it is always changing. It is cosmically altered as we take part in this radical transformation.

Short shallow breathes create cheap thrills they are a thing of the past.

Go deeper, below the waves of chaos, drama, bitterness and regret. Set your intentions and rise above the noise of self-doubt.

Let go of the voices saying, “You should not and cannot.”

Embrace your naked-self with love.

Make mistakes. It’s how we learn.

Learn to say, no.

Set your boundaries but not your dreams. Keep your dreams alive.

It is never too late to be great because you are perfectly imperfect.

Embrace each day you walk through the obstacles.

Step onto your ledge and soar.




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Carolyn Riker
Carolyn Riker, M.A., LMHC, is a counselor, teacher, writer and poet. She currently writes for several online journals such as Women’s Spiritual Poetry blog and formerly Elephant Journal. A collection of her work is on her blog, Magic of Stardust and Words. Her poetry and prose have been featured in three books. Between sips of coffee and navigating life via the stars and moon, Carolyn leads journal-writing workshops and has a private counseling practice. Additionally, she’s in the process of completing her first collection of poetry and prose, available in the fall of 2016. Followed with a bit of magic, there's a children’s book too.
Carolyn Riker
Carolyn Riker

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