The Balance of Strong
SHE AIN'T EFFIN AROUND FOLKS.
This ring is just plain old BOSS.
And so is the girl who wears it.
She's in charge.
Of her own life.
Of her own domain.
Of her own space.
Of her own destiny.
She is an active participant in where she goes.
She nestles her feet into the solid ground below her,
head held high to the limitless sky above her,
and just KNOWS.
THIS IS MY LIFE AND IT IS MY MASTERPIECE.
I OWE NOTHING.
I AM EVERYTHING.
I've been ruminating a lot lately this spring on what it means to be STRONG.
What it means to be an active participant in this one and only life we roam.
What it means to be a force.
And whether thats good or not.
Here are some thoughts:
I was walking through the woods the other day.
(and actually I have found such solace in the early parts of the morning lately
Among the wildflowers and the dark quiet of the forest)
I was trying not to step on such delicate wildflowers that have worked so hard to live where they do.
I couldn't help but notice the fragility of these sassy faces,
all Arnica and Lupine and Indian Paintbrush.
And as I returned throughout the week to the same flowers,
how quickly their beauty was spent.
An entire field set aflame in early summer blooms,
and quieted back to the calm green of a field of grass
in the matter of two days.
I went back two days after the two days,
and the sassy was back.
Fiery reds and yellow and orange.
Again, I am sure,
quieted back to calm green
two days from that day.
I find this balance intriguing, and inherent to the strength of these flowers.
Sometimes STRONG is with the wildflowers.
It's stronger to stay silent than spout off what's in your brain.
It's stronger to spout off what's in your brain and fuck the silence.
Be loud and bright orange. You don't have time to be anything BUT.
It's better to behave.
It's better to be the calm of forest green.
It's better to ignore the green and really just go for it.
Be big. Be beautiful.
Sometimes it's standing up.
Sometimes it's laying down.
Sometimes it's breathing.
Sometimes it's holding your breath.
Sometimes it's cussing at the brat at the coffee house who won't turn his boom box down.
Sometimes it's standing up at the table to walk over and turn off that damn noise.
Sometimes, it's laughing with the old man next to you in that coffee house
as you lament lack of respect in 'younger generations'
and then giggle to yourself later that you, in fact, were once that kid.
Black and White. No.
Because in this one chance to roam around within a world of far far left and way far right,
of blooms and barrenness,
of chaos and of calm.
the best you can do is be strong.
In fact. That's the ONLY option.
Be a jerk if you need to be.
Be a relatable and kindhearted soul.
Be a badass when you want to be.
Wear that armor AND that heart on your sleeve.
Walk delicately among the wildflowers,
but don't forget they're tough and live in the woods full time.
They can handle it,
and so can you.
The balance of strong is a full-time job.
Even the flowers know it.
Shop Update Tomorrow.
Friday 12 Noon MST.
Five MAMA JAMA Rings.
Fierce and Friggin' BIG.