My body, my mind, my heart. All feel this sense of weight and destruction.
I want this to be the place from which I rise, at last triumphant, and find my way out of the blackness inside.
I want that. I don’t feel much confidence that it will happen.
It seems that I have been on the verge of change so many times, only to fall backward into my despair. I am envious of those who speak of a revolution of self that occurs when they finally just start doing the things that speak to their soul. Those things lead to new doors and new opportunities and suddenly they are on a life path where there is joy in the work and peace in the heart.
Last time I occupied this space I thought I was coming to that in counselling. Yet, here I am, feeling that I remain unable to adequately cope with the demands of simply living.
I have so many dreams. I believe, perhaps naively, that if I knew what work I need to do to make those dreams manifest, then I would do the work. I just keep getting so lost and I lose the place to start and then I do nothing. Perhaps I’m more like my ex than I care to admit.
Glennon Doyle (LOVE her) wrote in her book, Love Warrior (LOVE the book), about getting up early in the morning, while others slept and doing her writing then. I have so much more space in my life and yet I still struggle to make progress on what I claim matters to me.
I just keep spinning and spinning.
Sometimes it’s hard to catch my breath.
Maybe, though, just maybe, this is a start. I’m opening up this space again and maybe that will help me to open space in my heart to let me in and let me out. I need both. I need breadth and focus all at once. I need to not make this an attempt to create something for some end goal. To let it be exactly what it is and nothing more.
My space and my life.
I think maybe I need to start with just breathing and worry about catching my breath a little later.