The Choice to Feel

In life’s grand arena, I once stood, a soldier,

Wrapped in armor of fear, shackled by doubt,

Where instincts waged war—fight or flee,

I bore the scars, like rain upon the drought.

Each heartbeat a drum, echoing battles of old,

In the chaos, a whisper dared to break through—

“Choose to feel,” it sang, tender and bold,

Nurturing the spirit, igniting the true.

I watched as my fortress began to crumble,

Like ancient walls yielding to the gentle breeze,

No longer captive to the critic’s cruel tongue,

I rose like a wildrose, blooming with ease.

Inhale the strength, let the rivers run deep,

Transform the tempests into tranquil skies,

In sorrow's embrace, I found the roots,

Nurturing the essence where love never dies.

My body, once burdened, now flows like sweet song,

Dancing through shadows, each movement a gift,

Like a dove breaking free from the cage of despair,

In sacred stillness, I rise, I uplift.

The ego, once rigid, now sails like a ship,

Guided by self-love, my beacon, my light,

With every heartbeat, I rewrite my tale,

Where shadows retreat, and the dawn greets the night.

Emotional vulnerability, my heart’s true refrain,

A symphony woven with threads of the real,

In this chorus of souls, I discover my rhythm,

The beauty of being, the power to feel.

No longer pursuing perfection’s cruel chase,

I embrace every flaw, let my spirit ignite,

Recovery whispers, “It’s okay to be lost,”

With each gentle step, I invite in the light.

Like waves caressing the shores of my soul,

Yesterday’s echoes begin to subside,

Fragments of sorrow wash in, then retreat,

In this dance of rebirth, my spirit’s my guide.

Fear not the depths, dear heart, for beneath lies gold,

A wellspring of courage, where healing takes root,

In grief’s fertile garden, new petals arise,

Each reminder of pain, a promise of fruit.

So I call to you, brave soul, heed my song,

Dive deep into the well of your yearning heart,

For in the tapestry of emotion, we awaken,

To the richness of living, where magic can start.

Let nostalgia rain down, gentle and pure,

Bathe in the memories, both battered and worn,

In this brave recognition, find strength in your softness,

And know, from the ashes of pain, you can be reborn.

--Austin Vangelena, MD 11/08/2024

Let Go

They say letting go is nectar for the soul,  

a sweet balm for wounds unseen.  

But am I just nectar, drained once again,  

or another flower, fading beneath the sun's harsh gaze?

Let go

Let go, so you can grow—  

But where shall I plant my seeds,  

adrift in the fickle winds of fate?  

Will I scatter and vanish,  

lost in Mother Nature’s design?

Where can I anchor my roots,  

made for saltwater depths?  

Only my tears can nourish this growth,  

only the deep waters within me can sustain

the hidden reservoirs of strength that lie beneath.

In that depth, I realize:

I’ve never needed the wind to carry me.  

I am the wind,  

and in that truth, I find my freedom

—Dr. Austin Vangelena, MD

10/2024