02/02/2026
Being Rearranged
The bear rows through the rapids wild,
through chaos like a frightened child,
yet knows what we so often missā
that breaking down precedes the bliss.
You are not broken, though it seems
like all your carefully laid dreams
have shattered into countless parts,
like life has ripped away your hearts.
You're being rearranged, reformed,
you're being weathered by the storm
not to destroy what you contain,
but to reveal your truest grain.
The rapids look like violence pure,
like nothing good could there endure,
like everything will be destroyed,
like all your efforts are now void.
But rearrangement looks like loss,
looks like you're being thrown and tossed,
looks like the end of all you knewā
but it's the pathway to what's true.
Something truer waits ahead,
a version of yourself that's shed
the parts that never really fit,
the roles you played but didn't sit.
The bear navigates the foam,
not fighting to return to home,
but trusting that this rushing through
will bring it to what's real and true.
When life dismantles who you are,
when you feel shattered, bruised, and scarred,
remember that you're not undoneā
your rearrangement has begun.
The pieces that are falling off
were never meant to be enough,
were never truly part of you,
were just the false obscuring true.
And what remains when chaos clears,
when you've survived these painful years,
will be more honest, more aligned,
more you than what you left behind.
So row through rapids, hold your oar,
and trust that there's a distant shore
where you'll arrive more whole than broke,
rearranged but not revoked.
The canyon walls rise steep and high,
the mist obscures the clear blue sky,
but light breaks through from up aboveā
this rearrangement is from love.
You are not broken, never were,
you're just becoming who you are,
and rearrangement, though it's hard,
will leave you beautifully unmarred.
