Pain has immense power to bend us… I’m told. When we are fighting the cause, we emote. We cry in despair reaching out to the dear ones expressing grief. We are handheld until one day, when either, we learn to handle the loss on our own; or a better instance heals us.
That’s the usual course one takes when hurt to come back to being himself. What about the ones who are numbed by the amount or times of hurt they have taken?
I’m a die-hard optimist and believe in all mistakes being opportunity generators. It creates a space otherwise going disregarded for one to challenge oneself and come successful. So in other words, there are no falls, only path-benders that create you as who you are meant to be.
What’s concerning me is that I’m finding it difficult to emote. Does that mean I’ve stopped fighting?
Crying is a waste of time. I’ve cried behind the locked doors, my pillow knows; but, to others only to be sympathized and what for? Who would know of the hurt I’m living with and understand what I need? And by the end of the session, I would have suffered a loss greater than before I started sharing. I’m this close to closing myself. I’ve done it before, I know the signs. That’s what I’m scared of. I’m constantly drawing a blank. Often, I’m feeling clueless. Even though I see positive indications around me, I’m failing to embrace them. I wish, I could show respect toward the things working out in my favour. Those are one too many.
So many changes and in a short span has left me baffled. My sharing any of it would mean I have taken to cribbing. For once, I consented to repeating the pattern too! I’m yet to regain peace. I’m getting accustomed to this new life and there shall be a day when I would resist leaving this all behind too. I raced so fast to get here that I’ve forgotten taking it easy. I’m finding it difficult to deviate. My ability to meditate has worn down. That motivation and looking up to live is terribly missing. I have tasks to finish introducing order back to my life and I’m waiting for the 367th day it seems! Once again, my peeve of handling things on my own is playing up.
There are several factors drawing complacence even in this completely upturned set-up. There were delays to reach here and it took time fixing a few things to make my new life liveable. I have been patient all this while. Maybe, this is where I lost my strength. I hate myself for lamenting around. I need to get up fast and run again. I need to tell myself to accept what I have, for this is the best I could under the circumstances. I am giving myself enough reasons to love this change and appreciate the elements in it. Since it’s my first ever in a long time, I’m at a loss to express. For the first time ever in years, I’m tasting life.
This is where a large part of me is fighting within herself. Why I waited and for whom when I could have attained the lifestyle I’m leading or worked toward enhancing my way of living how I’m planning to now? How had I let others define for me and rule my existence? I’ll take the blame on me. I should have left the survival tact being just that and moved on instead of haphazardly blending them to my then present life. In the process, I lost myself. I got bruised several times over before getting enough time to heal. This was my doing.
I’ve uprooted the dying weeds. The leftover dried twigs will clear in sometime. Perhaps they will decompose and support fresh life. It’s drizzled in parts. So, some of the ground has sprouted young leaves. This time around, I’m wishing Nature to support survival. The growth of vegetation no longer will be due to my efforts alone; I’ll let Universe play its part to support abundance.
I’m praying to the energies around me and from far away to conjure that will in me… one that is free of all known and explored testaments.
I’m waiting for that one rain to drench me from within.
Olivia's life instances... 