A Love Letter For When You Are Lost At Sea >or< How to Break the Game

Kim Smith
Kim Smith
Jul 25, 2017 · 3 min read

I wrote this letter for a writing class I am taking. It was originally addressed to someone in my life who is in pain. The more I read it, the more I see myself in every line. The more I read it, the more I can see that the feelings of being lost and alone or of being imprisoned by your past and story are universal commonalities of being human.

To continue any further is going to require a slight stretch of your imagination. Yes Your imagination specifically.

This letter is to You, from You. As it is read I’d like you to imagine that Consciousness, the part of you that is pure peace and joy is writing to the parts of you that still identify with story, fear, separation and attachment. You are reading to You.

If you’re still with me, first congratulations you Brave-Ass! Now it is time to play.

The only rule in this game is that you insert your name where it says, (YOUR NAME HERE).

Remember, it’s not about winning or losing, but how you play the game.

(Today’s Date)

(YOUR NAME HERE),

I miss you when you go Away. I feel the absence of you in my life like the presence of a phantom limb.

And I get it.

In your version of the game the world is cruel, the rules of operation keep reloading and as that circle keeps “thinking” you are at a loss of how to play. It often seems as if every character in your game is out to get you, including me.

And this version of the game is true. Life can be dangerous. You are often alone. Trust is given and then taken away.

(YOUR NAME HERE) I’ve been there. I’ve felt the black claws of fear wrap around my throat, the next breath seeming impossible. I know the empty void of anger, the safe space it creates between Us and Them. I’ve used my words to harm, malicious in intent and felt the surge of power when the strike lands. I’ve armored myself with the rigidness of control, thinking if I can just make things make sense on the outside, perhaps then they would make sense on the inside. I’ve been this human to many people, including you.

Yes, this is true, and there are more ways to play.

If we were ships passing in the night, strangers to ourselves and only known by the sea, I would know you. Twin flames ignited by the same sparks in our DNA.

Our scarred hulls perfect reflections, mirroring years of hard won breath. The timber worn from the effort of fighting and fleeing, the escape of safety always just beyond the next horizon.

We created our ships. Every nail hammered with the sweat of resistance. Every mast fastened with tears of suffering. Our armor once needed now weighs us down.

We are not the ships.

We are the sea,

Bottomless depths of trust and ease.

Swim with me in the waters of empathy,

Where there is no Us vs Them,

Just We,

Completely Joyful, Happy and Free.

This is for you too.

Will you come with me?

If you can’t come today. That’s ok. This leap may take you too far away from something to hold onto. I know that feeling, the rules of my game once told me that too.

Know that there are more ways to play.

She’s calling me. My body is aching to dissolve into her cool, clear waters. I hear the heartbeat of her waves, matching rhythm with mine. Can you hear it? It’s your heartbeat too.

When you’re ready to jump ship, free fall into me.

We will no longer seek safety.

We are safe as the Sea.

Until then, listen for me,

Each splash on your hull, a calling heartbeat

To join me in the sea of divinity.

I love you,

(YOUR NAME HERE)

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