Hafiz puts it this way:
All the craziness,
all the empty plots,
all the ghosts and fears,
all the grudges and sorrows
all the empty plots,
all the ghosts and fears,
all the grudges and sorrows
have now passed.
i must have inhaled a
strange feather
that finally
fell
out.
I think I have this irritating feather that makes me cough from my heart. Irritated, I keep trying to choke it out. All that happens is that it seems to lodge in there and it scrapes against all my self-kindness, distorts the day, and I wake up cranky and choking.
Today I choose to breathe deep and long, full and open, with freedom. I am free to be me, even it if is just this side of illusionary negativity and the joke of depression.
I am free, I am free, I am free to be me.