Someone recently asked me why I blog. It started me thinking. My knee-jerk reaction was that it affords me the opportunity to reflect on a piece of my life and share that reflection with those I love...but knee jerk reactions are seldom the whole picture. My next answer rumbled up from the well of suffering (and it's bedfellow, self pity), I blog because it is public and once you have had all your journals and private ramblings stolen in a custody battle and used against you in court, it is difficult to write again, particularly with any expectation of privacy...so I made my ramblings public. But, that certainly isn't the whole picture either. I suppose I blog for any number of simplistic and convoluted reasons, most of them leading to a simple truth: recording the day-to-day incidentals of a life seems more important to me than all the many things that often overshadow them. These precious moments, captured in word or picture, are the threads of a life, my life. A simple vignette, an inhale and an exhale, breathing in and out, and sometimes, maybe rarely, that means something to someone else, but it always means something to me.
Some days, you just have to forget about ‘healing’. You have to stop trying to feel better, trying to overcome your emotional wounds, or trying to be anywhere other than where you are. You have to embrace the day as it is. And you have to give yourself the most sacred permission of all: To shatter. To break. To be an ugly mess. To lean into a place of utter humility and powerlessness in yourself. To cry out to the heavens, “I can’t do this!” To admit utter defeat in the loss of the life you had imagined. To crumble to the ground, lonely and hopeless and profoundly ruined. To want to die, even. And there, in the darkest places, in the blackness of the underworld, you may begin to rediscover... life. And learn to love the beginnings. A sacred reboot: A single breath. The way the sun warms your face. The sound of a tiny bird singing in the tree over there. The raw simplicity of a single moment of human existence. Hell has been transmuted, thr...
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