Oh, my. Deep, breath in, deep breath out.......long exhale on a hiss. Again. In, slowly, like through a big straw. Out, slowly, on a hiss. As long as it takes. I do this a lot when I feel lonely, not good enough and feeling replaceable. And when I struggle to understand that people grow and move on with their lives, in life or in the ether. AND LEAVE ME BEHIND.
Deep down I believe that working with and on my own security is the way through this. Enhancing who I am, truly coming to accept that my choices determine my life and how it goes. If the past is holding me back, this is bad. This is not nostalgia. It will not come and lead me forward unless it is from a position of hindsight and learning.
So a few brief anecdotes:
A friend of mine, just last night, said that all the crap he's gone through since his divorce (10 years ago)-all the insecurity, the baggage, the beating his heart took-led him to the place he's in today, which is one of greater self confidence, acceptance of who HE is, and he has been shedding the hurt someone else placed on him throughout this process. Because he had to rely on himself for his own stability, strength, growth, and courage. And it's in THIS place, the one of self-containment, in which he is cool with himself, that he met a fabulous woman a couple of weeks ago. He is who he is, and his core self is what he's gained through so much pain.
Grieving is like that, too, I think, for me. I am learning to embrace myself as I am, knowing there are better people than I out there: better singers, better teachers, better lovers, better wives, better friends. And I am accepting that as a fact, not as a judgment against myself. And the people that don't recognize my light aren't meant to--it has nothing to do with me. Sure, I"m learning, growing, changing, but the rest of the world is, too. And circumspectly, I think my parents are, too, somewhere in the ether, and I am watching and letting them float away, because that is what needs to be. I know the direction I need to go, and I'm going there. I have to let them go their directions, too. That's part of my respect for them, and my love for them.
*This* is what I want for people who are grieving. We all do it so differently, but I know what I want for you. YES it's painful, my god. There's no way around that. There's no way it's NOT going to hurt. But I'm thinking that even while I cry, I must bring the focus back to myself as quickly and mindfully as I can, to remind myself of the good, the joyous, and grab on to the things I am pursuing, the things that move me forward.
But ooh, those triggers, still everywhere. That stabbing pain I feel in my heart and gut, is normal. We all feel that pain when a trigger hits us. I don't know if this helps, but there are so many things that remind me of my father, there are some days I am just twisting in agony--my heart is twisting in pain, my intestines writhing in pain. When we love someone that intensely the reaction to triggers is stronger and hurts longer. I hate human nature, and I hate this part of being human.
I guess I sound tortured. Not really. I slept in my bedroom for the first time in almost nine months. Truth be told, all the clothes are still on the bed (all clean). I moved them over. I took out some of the boxes that I had mailed back home after my father died. I took the clothes out with them. I won't wear them again. I couldn't. And that's okay. I have a picture of my dad and I in my studio at the university now. It was taken at my wedding, during the father-daughter dance. I get a little teary telling you about it, but the memory of his smile, his holding my hands, telling me to be happy, is so, so beautiful and precious to me. I can look at the picture now, and smile. That's me and my dad.
No comments:
Post a Comment