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Cry and scream
Lift heavy things
Strengthen your resolve
-安天美
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Raw emotion demands expression. There's wisdom in allowing ourselves to voice our deepest hurts, to let the body speak its truth through tears and sound. When tears come, they carry the same force that breaks dams, that reshapes coastlines, that carves canyons through stone. I felt it this morning - that overwhelming tide rising. Society trains us to build higher walls against such feelings, but sometimes the most powerful act is letting the waters break.
The act of crying and screaming transcends mere catharsis. Through screams and sobs, we speak a language older than words. Your body remembers this tongue, even when your mind forgets. Today, I honoured that knowing.
Let the walls crack. Let the waters flow. Let your voice carry what your heart could no longer hold. As one of my friends once said, “Let it break”. The relief comes not in containing the storm, but in becoming it - if only for a moment. Like rain breaking drought, your tears create space for new growth.
The shift to "lift heavy things" speaks to the wisdom of embodied transformation. There's something primal and profound in testing our physical limits, in feeling the tangible weight of our own capacity for strength. This isn't about aesthetic goals - it's about discovering what we're capable of bearing.
Each lift becomes a conversation with gravity, each strain a reminder: you are more than your breaking points. The weight in your hands tell you that you can carry more than you imagine. The barbell, the stone, and the burden we choose to carry become teachers of patience and persistence. Each rep is a conversation with gravity, a negotiation between what we think possible and what we can actually achieve. Your muscles remember what your mind sometimes questions.Today's heaviness becomes tomorrow's capacity.
Physical challenge offers immediate feedback - either you lift the weight or you don't. No space for self-doubt to nest, no room for stories about limitation. Just you, the weight, and the pure poetry of effort. Through conscious physical challenge, we learn that strength isn't about absence of strain but about our relationship with resistance. The weight becomes a mirror, reflecting back our own resilience.
Strengthening resolve isn't a passive process - it's an active forging, like steel being tempered through controlled stress. This final line bridges the emotional and physical, suggesting that true power comes from integrating both realms of experience.
Beyond the morning's tears, past the resistance of weights, I discovered momentum. Each choice to move forward cleared the path for the next one. My resolve grew not despite the morning's overwhelm, but because I allowed myself to feel it fully before moving through it. Strength flows differently when we stop fighting ourselves. Today showed me true power isn't about being unwavering, it's about moving like water through all its forms: the tear, the wave, the rising mist. The sequence of the poem reveals a crucial truth: that strength doesn't come from bypassing pain but through it.
What remains after we've moved through these stages is something altogether new - not just processed emotion or built muscle, but an integrated kind of power. This is strength that remembers its roots in vulnerability, power that knows how to both roar and rest. What began in overwhelm was transformed through my willingness to feel, to lift, to act. I turned emotional weight into physical challenge, and challenge into accomplishment.
The transformation isn't about becoming impervious to pain or immune to struggle. Instead, it's about developing a deeper relationship with our own capacity to move through difficult experiences. By nightfall, I have inhabited a different strength simply because I didn’t ignored the morning's storm. I let it teach me about my own depths. This is how we grow - not in spite of our struggles, but through our willingness to engage them fully.
This journey taught me once again that resilience isn't a destination but a practice, one that honours both our tears and our triumphs, our screams and our silence, our burdens and our strength.
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<aside> <img src="/icons/backward_blue.svg" alt="/icons/backward_blue.svg" width="40px" /> Trust First
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<aside> <img src="/icons/forward_blue.svg" alt="/icons/forward_blue.svg" width="40px" /> Weight of Permission
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