An emotion can not tell its story, if we refuse to learn its name.

An emotion can not tell its story,

if we refuse to learn its name.

And before we can release what we carry,

we must first become familiar.

To pause, to notice,

to witness, to understand.

This is grief.

This is fear.

This is loneliness.

Not as labels, but as invitations.

An offering to turn inward,

with warmth and curiosity.

To sit beside what hurts.

For what we are willing to meet,

we are less likely to fear.

And what is no longer feared,

may soften on its own.

In its own time, and its own pace,

once it feels it has been known.