moving at my speed 😌
Dear Starry-Eyed Romantic,
My original letter turned into a poem… this happens more often than you’d think. So take two:
For whatever reason, I believe my own negative self-talk is the only force preventing me from failure. It’s a quiet voice that’s crept into the narrative of my life and embedded itself in my mind.
The same inner voice I heard as a child, “if you step on any sidewalk cracks, your best friend will die.” Reasoning based in fear, not logic. But at six years old, I bought into it. Dancing around every cement imperfection, I left no possibility for evil intervention.
But as I near twenty years, I fear that voice has only evolved into my most persistent and unreasonable critique. It tells me I must hurry. Quick! That I should run, not walk. I cannot get caught up in being young. And my potential is nearly over even though I know it’s just begun.
I practice silencing self-doubts with reassurance. I remind myself I’m moving at my speed. I can find peace in the uncertainty of being young. I am just where I deserve to be, and on the path to being all I ought to become.
Enjoy this week’s newsletter 😉
❝ LIGHTSPEED ❞
(unpublished)
I can’t stop moving at lightspeed.
Tackling the next climb,
setting another deadline,
brighter starlight to gain,
and stars to claim.
“Slow down before you burn yourself out,”
but I’m the sun,
burning through four million tons,
of self-doubt,
every second.
I’m not made for this scrutiny,
the constant comparison,
spirals of self-pity,
and episodes of imposter syndrome.
My existence deserves stillness.
Gravity pressing on my chest,
a mantra to “stay at the absolute best,”
as the world hurtles forward while I rest.
I’m afraid of time passing me by,
like a blip of light shooting across the darkened sky,
missing out on everything I could be,
from the paralyzing fear of mediocrity.
And yet,
the closest I’ve come to peace,
is sitting down to read,
under a weathered tree,
with a cool summer breeze.
I’m moving at my speed.
I’m far better off,
living soft,
chasing my dog through tall grass,
memorizing nebulas with flecks of stardust.
I feel the most alive,
when my belly expands from full breaths,
another exhale closer to inevitable death.
Between the terror and wonder,
I exist in this great expanse,
perhaps not to flounder,
but to defiantly dance.
🪐 What I’m Orbiting 🪐
To my dismay, I haven’t had much time to read, listen to podcasts, or watch TV this past week. Most of my energy’s been going toward my summer class — I’ve got a final coming up, wish me luck! 😅 But I have been writing a lot! Working on poems and other projects that I’m excited for. This week might’ve felt slower than my usual pace, but that doesn’t make it any less productive. Resting is just as important, if not more than working. And to take some wisdom from this week’s poem, I’m moving at my speed 😊✨
🎶 Stuck In My Head 🎶
🎵 Nothing New (feat. Phoebe Bridgers) by Taylor Swift
🎵 My Kink Is Karma by Chappell Roan
🎵 Is It Just Me? by Mike Posner
✨ Stardust Thoughts ✨
💫 There’s no timeline for becoming.
🌿 You are allowed to pause and b r e a t h e
🌙 Trust your phases – just like the moon.
💌 If you know someone else who’s learning how to go their speed, forward this letter to them. 💌
You can grab a copy of my poetry book Supernova 💫, find me on IG @tayashokkerwriter, or check out my website www.tayashokker.com.
Until next time,