Destruction

My hands hold the power of immense creation -but also the power of terrible destruction. When I tear things down, rip them to shreds, pound my fists and clench my hands - this is when I reveal the destroyer within. And in the aftermath, when I witness what I've broken, I can hardly believe that the mess before me, the tragic error in judgement, was made possible with the same hands that long to hold truth and beauty.

The same hands that tenderly embrace and eagerly reach toward what is right and good - hands that hold close all that I love so dearly. The same hands that place paint on canvas in order to birth meaning.

These hands that pray - these hands that long to give and make - but can also hurt and take.

Can I wash my hands clean of the grime and stickiness of self-inflicted-negativity (SIN)? Of the destroyer? With radical acceptance, patience, self-love and forgiveness - I believe I can...