Grateful

 Today, I sit with myself in honesty.

I notice how often the world organizes itself around pain, noise, and disorder—and how uncomfortable it becomes when I arrive calm, disciplined, and quiet. Not because I am better, but because I no longer need chaos to feel alive.

I remind myself that hierarchy is a learned habit. So is comparison. So is fear disguised as belonging. None of these are truths of the body; they are adaptations of an unsettled nervous system.

I am learning to stand without needing a position. To be present without performing struggle. To care without rescuing or being rescued. To remain rooted without explaining myself.

I see now that confusion is not about skin, land, or history—it is about regulation. Unsettled bodies build unsettled cultures. Regulated bodies feel threatening to systems that survive on imbalance.

I release the need to be understood by those who cannot sit in stillness. I release the urge to explain discipline to minds that only recognize pain. Silence is not absence; it is integration.

Through stillness, I found myself again. Through breath, I remembered where I come from. Through observation, I reclaimed what was always mine—without anger, without rejection, without shame.

I honor my ancestors by caring for my body. I honor truth by refusing intoxication. I honor wisdom by moving slowly enough to feel my spine open, my breath deepen, my mind soften.

What I carry does not need approval. What I see does not need permission. I walk gently, aware that clarity can feel lonely when others are still negotiating their pain.

I do not warn.

I do not preach.

I simply remain.

If the world does not know where to place me, that is not my burden. I am not lost—I am integrated.

Today, I choose steadiness over recognition. Embodiment over explanation. Presence over belonging.

I trust the quiet path unfolding beneath my feet.

Yoruba Yogi