Slowly I realise
These thoughts are not my own
These walls of belief
I’ve set around me in stone
They were once yours
But you handed them down
So that one by one
They became my own.

I make myself drown
All the whispers of truth
I make myself sick
Through the weight
Of these beliefs.

Generation to generation
Like “gifts” they are passed down
To each line and child
Only now can I guess
That the truth inside me
Is buried behind these
Ancient stone lies.

And so I believe, just like you do
That money is bad
Joy isn’t mine
And love doesn’t exist
Just fear and limitation
Embedded in my genes.

But now I lay down
Stone by stone
Each one of your
Dashed dreams
For they are yours
And not my own.

A glimmer of light
A tiny dot yet bright
Starts to shine
And illuminate
The truth that has grown
In my self-made cell
The prison that is my mind.

I thank you for trying;
For your hand-me-downs
But from now on I will
Endeavor to form
Beliefs that are mine, and mine alone.

© Angela Dunning, 10 April 2015

2 thoughts on “Hand-Me-Downs

  1. Oh, wow…does this EVER resonate with me!!! Just went through a deep time of unstacking rocks in the last couple of weeks. It is AMAZING how so much of what we believe is US is really the voices of our ancestors. Deep and soulful work–namaste!

    Liked by 1 person

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