The windows are dirty. It’s golden hour and the ethereal light is filtering into my bedroom through the spotted glass, undistorted. I should really get to cleaning them. I should really get to a lot of things. But in this moment, as the light flows in, all I can think about is how my chest feels cracked open, but it doesn’t feel bad. It doesn’t feel wrong. It doesn’t feel painful. It’s simply overwhelming. It’s as if whatever is pouring out of me must be purged, and the only thing making its way back in is Love.
Of course it hasn’t always felt like this. It’s been heavy moving through inner turmoil. It’s always heavy, like swimming through sludge, so thick and deep you can’t feel the bottom. The trauma wants to latch to you. It’s BEEN latched to you. You keep moving through it hoping to come out clean. You always come up with some of it still sticking to you, even if it’s minimal. It’s those types of wounds, the ones that creep up on us, that leave us shocked and spiraling. We don’t even know they’re there until a lover reaches for us. Even though their touch is gentle we recoil instead of coming closer, because it hurts. It’s that kind of heavy.
But all of this soul work has revealed to me a power so incredible, I cannot regret diving into the depths. I say revealed because I have never been without it. You have never been without it. It’s just that sometimes we refuse it. We refuse to use it because it makes us too responsible for our own state of mind. But this evasion of responsibility for ourselves, specifically our emotions, leaves us feeling powerless and imbalanced. Satisfaction, stability, acceptance, manifestation, peace and strength all lie in one place–your ability to choose. For me it echoes through everything I do. Everything I create. Everything I am.
A choice to begin again.
A choice to see it differently.
A choice to put inner peace above all.
A choice to change the narrative.
A choice to love anyway.
A choice to embrace sadness, to caress heartache, until they begin to resemble something like joy and hopefulness.
It is liberating. For example, I was so sure this entry was going to be sad. I just knew it! I thought to myself, I am going to write today, and boy is this one going to be a doozy. It is going to hurt because today I am in IT! It being the sadness. But here I am writing (physically writing in my journal because that’s where entries on this blog often start), and I am smiling. I am radiant. I am optimistic. I am full. How? I suppose after working so hard to consciously choose not to dwell, I’ve finally begun to subconsciously choose it. Make no mistake, I choose to feel my sadness. I feel it, honor it, divine with it, and I kiss it farewell. At least, until we meet again, in a different way for a different reason.
Emotions ebb and flow. Healing ebbs and flows. It all comes forth in us, begging to be felt. So I make my choice. The water of the wave recedes, then builds up. Silently, I sit and let it swell. I feel it without judgment. I inhale, exhale. Within the crest is all I carry and through the crash it is released. The waves come at different intensities and varying frequencies, but they always come. I choose to experience their arrival as a blessing, a baptism, an awakening.
Golden hour is fading. The sun is setting. It’s light is now merely a dimming ember on the horizon. Twilight will linger in the sky until the night comes and dresses her in stars. A tiara of constellations. It will be beautiful. The windows are still dirty, but my vision is clear, and all I can see is Love.