“I was the type of person that held onto things too tight.
Unable to release my grip when it no longer felt right.
And although it gave me blisters and my fingers would all ache,
I always thought that holding on was worth the pain it takes.
I used to think in losing things I’d lose part of me too,
that slowly I’d become someone my heart no longer knew.
Then one day something happened.
I dropped what I had once held dear.
But my soul became much lighter instead of filled with fear.
And it taught my heart that some things aren’t meant to last for long.
They arrive to teach you lessons, and then continue on.
You don’t have to cling to people who no longer make you smile,
or do something you’ve come to hate, if it isn’t worth your while.
Sometimes the thing you’re fighting for, isn’t worth the cost.
And not everything you ever lose is bound to be a loss.”
Hello words right out of my heart and mind.
I heard that in a meditation for relaxing anxiety and letting go. I laughed out loud at how perfect it is and how the universe ALWAYS provides me the exact messages I need to receive at the most critical time.
That one time I created sacredness in my own backyard.
I forget this sometimes. We are so capable and can create rebirths at any time, in any place, if we’re willing to be completely honest with ourselves about the work we need to do.
If we’re stubbornly brave enough to face what’s causing our disturbance, we can set it – and ourselves – free. Any time.
I have been known to hold onto things too tight. People. Memories. Emotions. Words that are said to me. Someones irrational actions that impact me. I absorb and gather details about everything. I catalog, analyze, try to make sense of. But can eventually give it too much power to make me feel less than, hurt, and fearful. So. I wrote everything down that was really giving me Hell, and set it ablaze. Literally. This is the season of drastic measures to make points.
And not before I held the list in my hands and even hesitated! I was hesitating setting it on fire and I thought, wow. I really am holding on tight!
My heart has been through a lot the last 3 years. My therapist said to me, “It is a lot to process. Just the one thing. Your husband dying, and moving but then a broken engagement.” It seems to coast over my head sometimes because I am so wrapped up in trying to make the most logical sense of all thats happened, that the why I have such a hard time processing all of it and it can quickly overwhelm, because! I have experienced big life changes that are typically experienced years apart from each other. I have just been living. Squaring up with the next thing. Take your best shot. Here for it.
She then gave me this beautiful analogy of swimming in the Gulf. The waves are coming, just slamming into you. And while its kinda fun, kinda annoying the water getting in your eyes and mouth, you’re living and enjoying the water. You put yourself there for the thrill. But you’re ready to get out and you try to gather yourself to make it to shore but they just keep coming, don’t they? Like, damn, c’mon! Can ya stop so I can stand up!? They don’t stop because you get tired or need to catch your breath or wipe your eyes. She said to me, “One day you’re going to make it up onto shore, Caroline. You will.” Somedays I really don’t think I will, but I believe her. This time I do. Considering the waves I’ve squared up with, I am doing okay!
Brooklynn wanted to know where Daddy Shayne was so I brought him out of my nightstand. She stuck her little hand in the bag he’s in, along with a few photos of him. She sifted her Daddy’s remains through her tiny fingers and lifted out a photo of him and I from our engagement pictures. She sat there looking at the picture and I heard her little voice say, “Mommy? Do people come back from heaven?” I said, “What do you think?” (I don’t like to impose on what their little hearts are trying to make sense of, I want to hear what they think first). She said, “Yes. I think so.” So I said, “Then I think so, too. He can be wherever you need him to be, then.” And that was that.
Then we painted. And this seemed like the only thing appropriate. Let go so you can rise, sister.
First the blaze and the pain, …then the rising.
And no time traveling. 🙂