"Impossible to Divide"
A journey through the hidden chambers of the self.
The Budding Garden
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Love, Be Budding
Introduction pHotonic🧿phoEniX
Today, I’m happy to share a collaborative piece with them.
I have come to know them as a writing phoenix, exploring the meeting place of mysticism and conscious embodiment.
I hope you’ll enjoy what we’ve created together.
The lines in bold were written by pHotonic🧿phoEniX ,
and the lines in regular text are mine.
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Love, Be
“Impossible to Divide”
Prompt:
Is the person I show to the world the same person
I meet in the silence of my own heart?
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I have spent years introducing myself to others, yet only recently began meeting myself.
I thought they would see me, but how could that have been possible, when I had not seen me?
What I showed were merely fragments of my existence, carefully arranged in the light, while the rest of me remained unspoken in the dark.
Some of them inaccessible to me, yet always part of me, made darkness surface often — even unwantingly.
Suppressed pieces of me are now coming back into view, as if they were never meant to remain hidden in the first place.
I do not avoid them, since they are of me, make them bright with my flashlight, I explore them.
I showcase them now, no longer afraid of being my complete self, because when I look outside, I see other souls mirroring my own, and everything I once thought I had to carry alone….
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
Knowing I carry them does not make me fearful,
nor exposing them makes me feel as vulnerable.
It is different now —
like exhibiting ancient volcanic rock
under a glorious spotlight
bright like the sun itself —
reflecting glitters of multitudes.
They speak in their own voices:
Difficulty moans “Daily troubles trying to break me”
Ruin boasts “Went through storms and crashed out”
Shame whispers “Bad judgement calls with consequences”
Regret shouts “Been too harsh on myself and mine”
They speak in their own voices;
but using my own throat.
And cause my eyes to sparkle.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
Not because they are beautiful stories,
but because they are mine.
Like rivers carrying traces
of every mountain they have touched,
I carry each season within me.
The winters that hardened my ground.
The springs that arrived
long after I had given up waiting.
The summers that taught me abundance.
The autumns that asked me to release
what no longer belonged.
I once believed healing meant
becoming someone new.
Now I suspect it means
becoming impossible to divide.
To sit beside all that I am—
the frightened child,
the hopeful dreamer,
the weary traveler,
the woman who stayed,
the woman who left—
and recognize each one
as a beloved companion.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
And as I do, I recognize
reflections of me in others.
The exhausted mother who keeps going,
even when she has no energy left.
The desperate father who gave up all,
in order to be there for what matters most.
The daughter worrying about the sister,
who’s again going through a rough patch,
and does not have time to go out.
The brothers who are fighting demons,
trying to inflict damage on the ones
who hurt us without reason or mercy.
Meaning changed a long time ago.
Thus I don’t find much joy
in hunting guilty pleasures.
How I present is no longer a debilitating worry.
Don’t spend much time on material endeavors.
My people need me there;
the rest I gladly burry.
As growth is finally catching up with my age,
it urges me to break out of my solemn cage,
generational curses I command gone in rage,
as my inner child joins me in turning the page.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
And what remains is not perfection.
Only the willingness to stand unguarded.
To claim every scar
as evidence of having lived.
To let my joys and sorrows
share the same seat at the table.
And to know, at last,
that nothing within me
ever asked to be hidden—
only welcomed.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
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This is an amazing piece with Jungian vibes throughout. It speaks of the archetypes that we all experience many times in our journey through life . It speaks of the anima that is our true essence masked by the different forms we show in society. It’s also referencing the fact that what is ignored will still remain until it is addressed , not suppressed but integrated into our personality. Only when we have a palette of our different shades of our selves and accept all our colours, that we can be truly whole. A great piece , so cleverly crafted together and so well written. Thank you for sharing.
Another wonderful collab with seamless transition of thoughts. The world is the mirror to ourselves and in this we can grow realizing we all go through similar motions and thoughts. 🫶🏼