As the leaves rustle on the ground falling from the catalpa trees, I skip and run, imagining what I will be. Along came the days with some pain, and I now know childhood oppression stems from parents using tactics that eventually crush the spirit.

Along the way, I gravitated to what I knew because the stronghold of trauma was still new. I found a cure for my disturbances, and it was the addiction to drugs and alcohol, sex, food, and more.

When the obstructions became too heavy, a gentle reminder of hope sprang forward with a strong determination that no way could the oppressors continue to hold my precious talents.

I lured myself into believing that I was all alone, but suddenly the answer was to become my loving parent and partner. When I hear the experience, strength, and hope from others, it’s a gentle reminder that I can accomplish those things that I buried so long ago. Even if one nugget at a time, to unhitch one rock a day, one promise kept doing better than yesterday.

Not realizing that my dreams and hopes live on within and all I have to do is believe that I am worthy of removing the next stone that keeps me down, hidden from those talents.

The search started with long, purposeful walks, meditating with the great spirit of the universe, a voice of the unknown nudging me to keep pushing, keep lifting, rising above the obstacles while always remembering that I am not alone.

I am grateful for that sweet spirit, like the soothing of cool lemonade on a blistering hot day because the ancestors keep knocking at my door, guiding me to the hidden treasures—I have a purpose of living on in search of the unknown.