It can be dizzying this rebuilding. I am shine bright proud of myself for simply showing up and advancing without too much complaint. I have been open to meeting new people – willing it, even, calling out to the skies while walking the streets of Avignon, “bring me someone today,” optimism filled – and that too takes so much courage. Blowing patiently on the embers. I know it. I have kissed and my lips feel his sweet bruise, still.
And yet I woke up this morning and…I am crying without knowing why. More tears without noise. It started with missing Ben, his arriving just in my half-sleep upon waking and then just waves of longing for my old structure. The stone front steps where I always sat, the books stacked and frequently paged, the comforting illusion of a “forever,” being held in the morning after not sleeping well or sleeping deeply, just as the first hello. I thought that I had moved firmly beyond that longing. I truly did.
Grief is so tricky, leaving me shrugging foolish at my youthful misunderstanding. But I know to be patient, to be kind, to go gently. And I remember well how fortunate I am, it isn’t that.
It is just waltzing, myself in my arms. That old life. This new one. Turning, turning, turning.
In the dirty laundry buildup, my camera is gathering dust and that scares me. Admittedly, exhaustion clouds my eyes. Perhaps these mysterious tears have come for rain? There is something of getting ready for what is next, always – trying to create a luxury of space – that is both joyful and truly tiresome.
Can I find the words? Am I just words? Or am I also air and blood and dust of the moon?
This humaness. I take it all and willingly but there are also moments where I just feel a deep need to curl up on time’s carpet to rest.
Breathing through, I will get dressed and head outside to seek solace in beauty’s kind balm.
I will gladly take the hug and the reminder to stay open!!
Love you Leslie.
Good directives from a good lady.
Oh Judith, thank you. I don't know if I am all that brave. Really stubborn, maybe? And I do a lot of hiding from myself, like we all do.
Merci pour ta gentillesse et perspective…
I love you so much Sister. And I am so grateful for you every single day.
PS. My camera is still dusty. 🙁 These are just phone photos. But I got my camera out and it is at least in my bag. A start.
Just read a post from a fellow blogger who lost her husband of 60-years three months ago. The loss is raw and real. Heartbreak comes in many forms as does the strength to carry on . . .
Hello Heather,
May your journey continue to bring joy. When I read your beautiful post of today I thought of this card, which my late mother gave me a long time ago and it lives between pages in my bible.. "O Raphael, lead us towards those we are waiting for, those who are waiting for us! Raphael, Angel of happy meetings, lead us by the hand towards those we are looking for! May all our movements be guided by your light".
Hope your weekend is as beautiful as you are Heather.
Helen xx
Sensing more hope & peace in your always luminous work…
I hope you will find sparks of joy each day
A new stage in one’s life. The space can be spacious or constricting.
A new experience starts with fresh beginnings. Moments of insights come unexpectedly the sages say.
Longing & sadness may visit intermittently.
A new door will open for you. You can enter boldly like before.