Those scars, visible to those who notice you, are irrefutable proof of your victory, of winning this war against the wounds of your absence. Wounds that at some moment believed would end with your existence, despair, anguish, sorrow, pain ... just the lack of any cheerful and positive feeling pushed you even harder on your trip to retrieve that touch of the angels ... the beginning of the battle.
You gathered the necessary forces, gradually, without haste, without error, not like in the past ... your future was the goal, the necessary adrenaline in your present, at least at that time of your life. The roars tried to shut you up, tremors embraced sorrows ... those invisible hands clinging to yours, stellar saviors, internal flash of your sap.
You accepted that defeat, and those were your laurels. Knowing that it is only a fall and you could still get up. The scar starts to form, perhaps one more of many that passed and that are still to come. Forever it will be present, reminding you that you were able to overcome it, although it has been very hard, you did it anyway ... that's your crown.
Every time you look at it you will remember your great struggle, and you will have in mind that there's nothing in this life that cannot be overcome ... there are no impossible things, they exist only in some minds, still dependent on others already free of chains, capable of driving their actions to places unimagined by those in chains. Simply believe that anything is possible, and the chains will disappear ... patience.
Namaste
