* before reading this post, please make sure you are seated next to something large and wooden, such as a door, a table, a bookshelf…then, knock on it.
I have a big anniversary this month.
3 years ago this month was the last time that my life was thrown into complete chaos and mayhem. 3 years ago was the last time I went to a funeral. 3 years ago was the last time I heard that tone of voice I had become so accustomed to. 3 years ago was the last time that I felt like I wasn’t going to be able to hold it all together, that I was going to *poof* into oblivion.
There was a time in my life when all of these things were commonplace. When I came to expect it, to hold my breath, to wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. There was a time when I woke up on the morning of my senior prom and went to a funeral. There was a time when I thought it was never going to stop, that I was going to whirl on in a fury of chaos and neither of my feet would ever again meet the ground.
Mostly though, it was a time when I felt as though the sadness of the whole world had been placed upon my heart.
And then something happened.
Maybe it was because I finally had a chance to take a deep breath and make an attempt to put one of my feet back on the beautiful soil of the earth, but I heard a voice, from within the depths of me, whispering quietly, almost inaudibly, “You are capable of this…this and so much more.”
Slowly, I stopped looking around every corner. I stopped flinching at every phone call. I took both of my feet and cautiously planted them firmly upon the earth. I began exhaling the toxic breath that I had been holding in for so long.
Since, I have reached into corners of the world and of my heart that I had never imagined existed. Sometimes, I still find myself paralyzed, from stress or maybe from fear… But it is in those moments that once again, I try to quiet myself in order to hear the tiny little voice from within my depths, “You are capable of this…”
Finally, after three years, I am no longer learning about grief and anger and overwhelming sadness…now, it’s a new lesson I am learning. Today, its contentment I have to learn to live with. You would think that contentment, by nature, comes easy. But, on the contrary, contentment is far from the world I had become accustomed to…I always thought of it as one of those things that we, as humans strive for, yet never have the great privilege of experiencing. Isn’t it just some ideal that the universe keeps at arms length to make sure that we are constantly stretching, yearning, trying?
For the last few weeks I have been feeling odd, like something was wrong… but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I glanced briefly into the depths of my self. I checked in with my emotional self, my spiritual self, my physical self, my intellectual self and my social self. And I found ---nothing. And that was when I realized what was wrong was…nothing.
In all reality, I barely know how to exist with nothing wrong. I have spent so much time trying to keep my head above water, treading so furiously, that I forgot I know how to swim. I am well aware of the looming promise of transition in the near future, but I also know how utterly capable I am. I will make the right choices and I will continue growing and learning.
But things aren’t changing tomorrow, which means I need to get comfortable. I need to be at ease without sadness in my heart and disarray in my world. I need to find peace in those dark corners of my soul that have not known peace in my adult life. I need to be kind with them and patient with myself. I need to remember that being peaceful is not the same as being bored. I need to look up at the sky, through the skyscrapers and the pollution, with my feet planted firmly on the concrete and exhale everything my heart has been familiar with, opening it to the peace I know to exist.
No comments:
Post a Comment