Avoiding the HARD WORK?

 You Can't.

"The hard work is not avoided. It is being built inside of me every day." ~ Mama PK

As I write this, I realize I have weathered much in my life. Not because I am the sharpest pencil in the box. But because I am a pencil that has been sharpened many times. And yes--sometimes dulled by use.

Sharpened again. Used again.

That is what life does to those who stay in the work

Recently, I was reminded of something I already knew:

Avoiding hard work does not make it disappear. It makes it show up later -- larger.

I opened my space as refuge. "The Station" is forming in my spirit -- a place for thought, healing, collaboration and cultivation. A sanctuary where ideas can breathe and people can rest long enough to gather themselves. One of my mentees needed rest. Safety. A pause.

I offered that.

What I did not offer was ownership. What I did not offer was permission to expand my generosity into entitlement. Within days, boundaries were crossed. Someone else was moved into the space I own--without my consent.

Energy shifted. Order shifted. Intention shifted.

And I felt it in my bones.

There is a particular heat that rises when sacred space is mishandled. Not anger alone--but recognition. THIS IS NOT ALIGNMENT.

I am an elder: Elder abuse does not always look like violence. Sometimes it looks like assumption. Sometimes it looks like testing compassion. Sometimes it looks like believing someone's kindness means you can stretch it without consequence.

I am usually the one who wants to talk it through. Fix it. Restore it. But today?

Today I want the line held. And I do not feel guilty about that anymore. Reconciliation may be possible one day. But reconciliation without accountability is simply repeated harm. The hard work here is not confrontation. The hard work is boundary.

The hard work is resisting the urge to over-explain. The hard work is saying:

This space was offered temporarily. It was permission to alter my home. The boundary was crossed. For that reason, this arrangement ends.

No lecture. No shame. No dragging.

Just truth.

Avoiding that hard work would mean allowing confusion to take root The Station before it is even born. And that I will not do.

Sanctuary requires stewardship. Refuge requires structure. Mercy requires clarity. Even in restorative justice, there is removal before reconciliation. Distance before dialogue. Order before healing.

The Station will be a refuge. But it will be guarded. And today holding that line is not cruelty.

It is wisdom.

PK McCary 2026