Word #186

The designation of terms is something that we all understand but what’s not there are the details that tell the truth about what each of us feels in relation to an expression so when we listen, rather than hear what is being said, it is our personal experience that dictates our reaction to what others are saying. That, unfortunately, often leads to misunderstandings that feed the very hell we hope to stop. Even when we have similar knowledge of a particular word, we can still respond in a completely different way as a reflection of our personal value of it. There are even times where we will make light of a situation or react strongly when understanding does not exist because of a limited view. Let’s start here with the word home and what it comfortably and uncomfortably holds for you as well as for me. That term is defined as the location that one grew up in or currently resides in and as the focusing in on a particular point. An address or a matter can hold a mess, indifference, love, well-being, fear, grief, pain, fabulousness and so much more depending upon what our individual experiences are with it. We recognize it most often as something that is on the outside of ourselves, a visible place to be, but within that definition is an unseen and unthought of location that we each hold in the place that needs us most; also known as our hearts. That particular site also carries a variety of feelings but it has always been so much simpler to view and describe it as a changeable destination than it has been to be aware of it’s existence within us and how what lives there matters more than the building we reside in. Ryan’s addiction brought the realization that each of us needed to come home within ourselves. We had to discover, through a series of movements, what we think and feel about our experiences that have occurred while together as well as not together. Since his death, the term home has evolved even more into the definition of a locality, on the inside as well as the outside, where I feel safe to just be whether I am all right or not. Because some will and some won’t, there have been expectations that I either keep my grief to myself or that I behave as I did prior to his death or at the very least give the appearance of being so. That familiar projection also happened during the years of Ryan’s substance use so I am aware of how it felt in the yesterdays, it’s part in my walking in circles and falling as well as it’s potential to effect me today. The real truth is that it is impossible to be all right in every moment and being safe or home means that I accept and love myself in all of the ways that I can be even when grief, fear and pain is illuminated in the very loud voice of anger or through my tears that show up when I least expect them. In other words, I will never again be who I was in the yesterdays so I might as well be who I am today because it’s where being possible is waiting for me. This is me but it is also you even when our details are different. After all, another moment has passed that has forever changed who we are, sometimes for the better and at other times for the worse, but always as a series of movements leading us towards understanding if we turn around to view and feel it. What about my story feels familiar for you? Do you understand how difficult it is to have a mess that others would prefer not to see and have the expectation of a closed door? Or is it you that has desired to not to have it follow you wherever you go? What, then, would you say is your word? Why is it that particular term? It is good to be home in the place that you should zero in on because it is the location that has developed from the details of your kind of life, it’s where you will always live regardless of your address and it’s what you are going through with no matter what you wish for. Give yourself a moment to recollect yourself and your collection of things then have the best day possible for you as you leave the door open to your home as you get comfortable with being safe even when that means the use of a lot of tissues, saying “I am sorry” and of course “oh hell those “f” moments” Love Always, Heavell