When grown men cry

There comes a time, when all you can do is sit things down. Set them aside, wherever you are, and just leave them be.

There comes a time where you will have to be. Still. Resting within yourself. Not to take a break from where you have to be. But to sit in silence, remembering. Remembering what it is you are.

In those times, the chaos of the world has no impact on you. Like a dervish on steroids, everything rushing at you, but nothing touching you. Anything thrown your way bounces off on the cotton candy walls build around your connection. Your connection with yourself. Your connection to the Divine within.

Those are the times when grown men cry.

There is no more strength left in them to lift their legs onto the next step.

Those are the times when the world turns in slow motion, making you realize that time has always stood still. You were just too busy. Too busy running. Running your life. Running towards your own death.

Those are the times when grown men cry.

Their hearts broken soft, with no strength left to pump another beat. Those are the times when you are still. Realizing what life is.