The sun can be seen every day even when our view is blocked and it’s warmth is suspended by the biting cold. Moments are bittersweet in the symphonies that cross our minds because part of the beauty of love is that it doesn’t always feel good in our hearts or our thoughts. Change is challenging because what we push into the shadows doesn’t get quieter there but rather continues to murmur like a dragon that is holding us captive. We can be late on our journeys, walk in circles and fall off of cliffs while still winning on a regular basis. Negative thoughts don’t go away by thinking the opposite ideas but positive actions help us to focus on what we can do for ourselves while we grieve. Lost can become found by strolling through our very own selves one word at a time. We can brighten the debris filled days by recognizing that sometimes we are trying to dance the way others do and its not our style. Home is the place where we say hello to our terms and either feel their softness or their sharpness with each breath that we take. For every out of key note that we hate about ourselves, turn by turn, there is one that feels like a hug in our hearts. In the to and fro motion of our reshaping, we can throw hues onto a canvas without regard as long as what it depicts is clear to us. When it comes to wishes, we can see ourselves in the mirror as the dreamers filled with hope that make their existence possible. To begin, we can close our eyes and imagine how safe feels within us even though it has to share space with our fear and our doubt. The blank pages of our narratives have something to say but we have to be vulnerable enough to write in color on them. Black and gray may be the tones of storms in some stories but in another epic tale, they are the pigments of a love that will forever light the way. And at the end of each day, we can accept that disappointment occurs in our lives because love doesn’t just acknowledge us in the flowers as it perceives of us in the weeds as well.
Today’s blog is dedicated to Skyler who, at the age of 25, lost his life to a pure fentanyl overdose and his mother Rebecca, @mourningsky.griefcoach for whom sorrow has become a glow that helps others when they can’t see to go forward in the darkness of grief.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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