In reality, this is a horrid excuse. I am growing to understand that had I been writing more and pushing through the sogginess of my being, I may be further along in the process. Afterall, I’m a writer and I should write.
Having said this…let’s jump back into the discovery of our bold selves…
“We can’t let fear keep us from our own capacity.”
I just heard these words as spoken by a yogi in the documentary “The Highest Pass.” I’m not quite finished with the film as of yet, but I am enjoying the process of living vicariously through a group of motorcyclists who dared to ride one of the most treacherous and challenging roads in the world.
Driving in India is no walk in the park. Thus far two motorcyclists have been hit by cars. The key is that each of these beings at one point…or at many points…are faced with the choice to turn back, get on an airplane, and run to their “safe” and “normal” existences.
As I watch, I am becoming more and more aware that I’ve been climbing my own mountain over the past eight months.
The end of my five year relationship has forced me to experience a new sense of self and the horrifying pangs of loneliness. I had taken for granted the comfort that comes with union. I will never forget driving through a parking lot near my home and wailing when I realized I no longer had a partner in crime. Learning to be okay with this has been one of my most difficult challenges ever.
Shortly after, my Mom had to undergo a major surgery. For the first time, I assumed the role of guardian and protector of my very own parent. This led me to a whole new understanding of love and support. This also was terrifying in some ways.
There are also beautiful things that have occurred — a new job, new friends, and self-growth.
“When one door closes, another door opens,” it has been said millions of times by people around the globe. Regardless of how romantic this notion may sound, diving into the unknown is so very bittersweet…even freaky!
In a recent conversation with my Mother, she told me how her surgery made her realize that she has far less control than she once thought she did.
While I haven’t undergone a physical surgery, there is this immovable force pushing me to reach new heights of self-understanding. To be honest, the process has stripped me freaking bare. I’ve probably shed enough tears to fill a small pool. I’ve panicked. I’ve tried to cling on to limited thought patterns, people…even my darn cats.
Speaking of cats, I have a boy cat that I once found in a woodpile 13 years ago. He became mine in a little twist of fate, but that’s a story for another day. He has been a little rock for me through the past handful of months. Each night he jumps up on my bed and curls next to me. He seems to understand my needs and softly puts his paw on my arm. There have been times I’ve held that little guy so tightly.
There’s no getting around it — growth normally comes with pain.
One day though, I know, I will stand one day on a mountain top with a huge smile upon my face. My laughter and silliness will return. I’ll discover a new sense of love and be able to give it away to another being again.
But first, I must finish climbing the invisible mountain and welcome the stretching of my soul.
“A life without a cause is a life without effect,” writes Paulo Coelho in Aleph.
The cause is being revealed a little more each day…