The Wisdom of the Crazy

I created this series because, as I look at the world and my own heart, I see how often we swing between two extremes: the Ninja’s Silence and the Ninja’s Sprint.

For a long time, I was an accomplice to my own kidnapping. I let a ‘Ninja’ take away the girl who was messy, loud, and creative, and replace her with a version that was ‘Presentable’ but hollow. Eventually, I also fell victim to sprinting after this very scared Ninja because I was terrified that if I slowed down, he would find a way to lock me away again.

Often times the world sees our ‘mental health’ symptoms as random glitches or broken parts of ourselves, but don’t recognize where they actually come from, and the profound wisdom behind them. They are survival strategies and there is deep pain behind them that can truly allow us to heal when we are ready to touch into it.

Before I share the deeper ‘why’ behind these metaphors and the explanation of it, I want to let these illustrations and this poem sit on their own. I think we have all felt the invisible ropes and the eruption, not just in extreme cases, but in everyday life.

I’ve written an in-depth essay exploring this entire spectrum which I’ll be sharing in my next post. For now, meet the Ninja!

This is me,

expansive and bright,

A creature of play,

a bringer of light.

With no sense of shame

and no heavy restraint,

I’m a soul before fear

a heart before taint.

I just want to laugh,

to connect,

to entertain,

Not yet filled with sinking feelings of shadow or pain.

But then came the Ninja,

silent and gray,

Who decided this girl must be hidden away.

With a hand on my mouth so I couldn’t be heard,

He stifled my spirit and swallowed my words.

Confused why he forced my reserve

What in the world did I do to deserve?

He tied me to wood and he bound me in rope,

A girl full of magic,

now stripped of her hope.

Silenced and shackled and left there to choke,

My spirit believed she was looked at as a joke.

I grew into anger, left alone there to rot,

In a dungeon full of wisdom the Ninja forgot.

He looked at the world with a fearful eye,

Searching for someone to act as my disguise.

A candidate appeared, so polite and so still,

She seemed to be much more willing to follow his will

“She’s presentable,” he whispered,

“and easy to prize,

A version much softer on everyone’s eyes.”

The Ninja led her with a smile and a bow,

“Don’t worry,” he promised,

“I’ll protect you for now.”

He appeared like a guardian, telling her she’s safe by his side,

While the girl underneath had no choice but to hide.

She sits on the stool,

a girl on display,

“Free” to go wherever she happens to stray.

But she wears invisible shackles, a weight in her mind,

She’s learned to be confined without “having” to be tied.

The world gives her praise for the ropes she has spun,

For tying herself up until she is numb.

What is “being free” with just one way to be?

What choice is “Perform, or the dungeon you’ll see”?

What is “the praise” when it isn’t for you?

When the mask is too heavy and the pain is too true?

The girl in the dungeon finally breaks free,

She snaps through the ropes for the world to see!

A panicked and frantic and terrified child,

Now running around energetic and wild.

She has no clue how long she is here to stay,

Before the Ninja finds her again and takes her away.

“I’m here!” she is screaming, “I’m inherent and real!”

And out pours the wisdom and the truth she can feel.

The world calls her “crazy,” and the world goes to rush…

To silence the very spirit that the ninja had just crushed.

But beneath all the ‘chaos’ and frantic feel,

Is the deepest of wisdom, waiting to heal

She angrily runs toward the Ninja to tear off his mask,

To hold him accountable for this terrible task.

But the Ninja, he sprints—he is bolting in fear,

He doesn’t want her to face the pain drawing near.

He can’t bear to see her so heartbroken inside,

While she stares at the shame he’s been trying to hide.

So he tries to outrun what will shatter her heart:

The truth that he tore her own spirit apart.

He is terrified that she’ll never understand—

That he always had her best interest at hand.

As the Ninja finally runs out of breath,

To his own painful fate he decides to accept.

He finally allows her to catch him—at last—

And she lets out a sudden, heart-shattering gasp.

It is her own self, staring through her own eyes,

Stunned and shaken by the Ninja’s disguise.

“How could you do this? You locked me in a cell!”

“I didn’t do it to you,” the Ninja tried to yell—

“I did it for you, so you’d have a place you could hide,

From a world that I feared wouldn’t let you inside.”

She cuts through the anger, she cuts to the pain,

To the fear and the shame that he tried to restrain.

Daggers of truth pierce straight through my heart,

How could I tear my own spirit apart?

To love her so much, yet to doubt her so deep,

To lock up the treasure I promised to keep.

For she is the one who brings depth to the room,

A mirror for those who can’t see their own wounds.

She holds all the feelings that others can’t name,

Yet she’s the one hidden, and she’s the one blamed

The world sees the surface, the charm and the “success,”

But misses the soul who holds all the mess.

They got used to her light and they forgot how to see,

That she is the tether that sets them all free.

They see her as “broken,” a “burden,” a “mess,”

Because she feels more than they’d ever dare to confess.

They label her “childish” to hide from the fact—

That she is the one with the courage they lack.

She brings the compassion, the joy, and the light,

The empathy needed to make the world right.

It doesn’t matter if they miss the gifts that she brings,

Within her own soul, her beauty still rings.

She is the gift that the world needs to feel,

Sensitive, messy, and actually real

I love her, I trust her, I’ll let her exist,

For a world without her is a world that is missed.