The aching, the longing, the tears. They seem to predominate every living moment. But, in reality, they are only moments-intense, excruciating collapsing moments. These are times to be held, honored and felt. They propel us toward love, so intense it is painful, painfully beautiful.
But "WHY," I asked myself, if I am working so hard to make efforts to move myself into joyful living am I still weeping? I write, read, dance and paint. Music is making its way into my life in the form of a Native American Flute. Horse-ownership, while new to me, has provided powerful, healing moments. The woods are always waiting to flood me with their light. All of these things, and more, are opening me up to a deeper existence. I thought the point of all this was to "heal" me. But still, I cry.
This perplexed me. I walked down the road pondering the purpose for movement in my life if I still had moments of collapse. Not long into my walk, I saw it. It's not about eliminating the grief. The grief is love. It is about those spaces that live in between the storms. The times when the light streams in, where joy tries to edge its way in. It is the place where life opens up to carry you into a deeper stream. Immerse yourself in it, bathe in it, knowing that you will surely be knocked over again, but knowing the spaces in between will grow longer and deeper. There is no need to despair when sadness seems to consume you. It is a moment in life, not to be pushed away. The spaces in between are also moments. Moments to let life open up, to absorb the light and allow yourself to be held by joy.
But "WHY," I asked myself, if I am working so hard to make efforts to move myself into joyful living am I still weeping? I write, read, dance and paint. Music is making its way into my life in the form of a Native American Flute. Horse-ownership, while new to me, has provided powerful, healing moments. The woods are always waiting to flood me with their light. All of these things, and more, are opening me up to a deeper existence. I thought the point of all this was to "heal" me. But still, I cry.
This perplexed me. I walked down the road pondering the purpose for movement in my life if I still had moments of collapse. Not long into my walk, I saw it. It's not about eliminating the grief. The grief is love. It is about those spaces that live in between the storms. The times when the light streams in, where joy tries to edge its way in. It is the place where life opens up to carry you into a deeper stream. Immerse yourself in it, bathe in it, knowing that you will surely be knocked over again, but knowing the spaces in between will grow longer and deeper. There is no need to despair when sadness seems to consume you. It is a moment in life, not to be pushed away. The spaces in between are also moments. Moments to let life open up, to absorb the light and allow yourself to be held by joy.
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