I often write something after someone speaks to my heart. This is what happened with the following.2/26/2021 Being Alright With Not Being The Same 2-5-21
The words, “I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again” resonated deeply with me. They were spoken by someone who had lost his beloved after many years together. I have thought and felt the very same way, many times, over the last few years. How could life ever have meaning again? Where would I be able to find joy again? Initially there were no indications that I would ever recover from the loss and sadness. My entire world had lost all its color, had gone dark and I could barely function. Over time, however, signs of spring and the newness it brings began to get my attention. Sometimes I heard my own laughter breaking the silence, startling and surprising me. Without really knowing it, time was buffing out the sharp edges, softening the blow. I suppose I cried a little less, smiled a little more and began to notice I was still alive. Because I had lost the ability to pay attention life had gone on, seemingly without me. And in the interim parts of me began to heal a little. I was no longer an open wound. Maybe this is the resilience that is spoken about. That tenaciousness of being human. I realize that not everyone survives deep trauma but the reality is that most of us do. Sometimes I have thought of myself as a stone tossed and tumbled about in the sea. Originally rough, cracked and jagged after a long time becoming smooth and beautiful. When I look back at where I was I do see some progress and I am truly grateful for it. In spite of wrestling with thoughts of “who am I?” I think I’m beginning to find out. At least I feel a bit of a spark inside tickling a curiosity to find out what might be next. This is new and I think it’s because I have begun to accept this new version of me. Moving out from under the perpetual cloud, day in and day out, one step at a time I found myself a stranger in a strange land but I am beginning to be okay with it. I don’t know when that happened but I suspect it didn’t suddenly happen all at once. It’s been a gradual metamorphosis from obliteration to finally feeling I might live again. Grief, that was once a stalking hound has surprisingly become a welcome companion. It has shown the way through every necessary tear, teaching me the value of them all. So now when I remember, I might shed more tears but then find that I am smiling too, I am realizing that I have actually become more than I was not in spite of, but because of. Being blasted apart and then having the willingness to open myself to be repaired I didn’t know it then but see it now, love is putting me back together one piece at a time.
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Diane BurnsThis is where I get to post things that I've written, paintings I've done and ideas I have for new projects. Archives
June 2021
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