We spend a lot of our moments trying to argue our pain away through the people, places and things that surround us because we don’t really know how to be happy along side the sorrow that also lives within the very environments of our own hearts and minds.
Regardless of how many yesterdays have gone by or how safe we feel because the weather is perfect, there are many times when our thoughts aren’t enough to hold back those details that treat us as if we are still traveling in those events.
Even stacking other parts to our stories hasn’t allowed us to walk elsewhere from what we are use to breathing in and although we certainly want to reject that noise, it has a way of presenting itself as a constant companion that refuses to be ignored.
Pain is, at some point, something that occurs for all of us however not everyone seems to be as contained by it as others are and we chase the wrong things because we think that it has to look a certain way in order for us to be able to live with it.
Darkness, after all, is the kind of ecosystem whose output keeps on giving by making it surprisingly possible for us to feel completely empty as well as overwhelmingly full without providing the evidence of it’s existence for anyone other than ourselves to take notice of it.
We already know how to exist within it’s embrace, though, as that’s what we have been doing all along but we haven’t been returning the hug as it feels weak for us to acknowledge that the weeds on our trails have left marks on us.
Just because we have had the colors and the words to express our pain, it doesn’t mean that we have to keep using them in the same manner because the nutrients from those tears can expand the little known blooms of understanding that wouldn’t otherwise develop without them.
How would our perspective about sorrow change, if we knew that healing isn’t about letting go of those stains but rather about releasing how their former definitions have had us devaluing who we are simply as the results of not knowing what to do with the hurt?
It’s about time that we start realizing that some of the light of happiness is in how we choose to be available for the darkness to flow in and out of us as easily as we are willing to twist to reach flowers.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you because that is enough. Love Always, Heavell
(Artwork courtesy of the wonderful Lily! Thank you so much for sharing your talents with us!)
Time does not make choices easier for us but over time the repetition of the companion words that we keep around fill the spaces between the yesterdays and today as the evidence of what was as well as what we fear will continue to be in the tomorrows.
There isn’t anything in our environment that says we have to transport those familiar options with us and yet we believe that we are trapped within their boundaries so we remain in their replication even though we hope for something different.
No matter what has been on our journeys, we don’t have to keep reminding ourselves about the moments that the sun wasn’t shining as our thoughts have already mapped the details of those marks while our hearts have projected the preserved grief of them, page after page.
And as those feels have had the freedom to bleed through, carrying that weight of the world has appeared to prevent our progress even though its not the presence of those things but rather how we have gotten use to being amongst them without even liking them.
Our past isn’t asking us to let go of a page or a lot of our sheets simply because the mess doesn’t reflect our best artwork but it does want us to imagine that what we needed in those prior moments is something that we are now capable of surrounding the yesterdays with.
Changing what has been so close and confining requires our moving through the consideration of who we were when our knowledge provided the view that we were stuck rather than allowing us to see that we were actually unsure of what to do with the experiences that had been enfolding us.
Having the space to create doesn’t mean that we have to do something with it until we are ready to choose showing up for our better stories that will always include flowers that don’t bloom and ones that surprise us as well as weeds that cling to us and some we never even notice.
It’s okay not to have all of the words or the answers because with a little shuffling, the black and white of our sorrow and regret can become colorful just by expanding the partners that they are connected to.
A page will feel empty before it feels full and if we are going to hope for things to fill it with, then let us repeatedly wish for our moments to be bordered by understanding up till enough time has passed for that word to become a familiar and comfortable companion along the uncharted trails of our so very heavell lives.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Sorrow from yesterday’s choices can create indecisiveness in our movements with tomorrow’s options and even our hope can’t dissuade us from carrying the repetition of that kind of pain on the hidden resumes that we take with us everywhere we go.
There’s nothing wrong with feeling deeply in the place that houses all that we are but those vibes can lead to the unreliable belief that our mirror holds the reminders of what didn’t go as planned when really those images are looking for clarity on the things that we want to talk about the least.
No matter how long we have been residing in a feeling, a thought or a particular position, we don’t have to continue to stay in any energy that doesn’t allow us to be flexible in changing our decisions about what serves us and what doesn’t whenever we need to.
So if our idea has been that there is acceptance for what is correct while not allowing understanding for what isn’t, then perhaps that contrast has been holding us back by clouding our view of how choosing an option actually works for each of us.
After all, the key to whether a selection is right or not often requires our first stepping into an unnavigated experience to see how its colors mix with ours before we can actually celebrate its addition to our pages or decide that its not in our best interest but still something to learn from as we move away.
There are no guarantees that flowers will appear from error-free action or that they will be beautiful but then there also aren’t any assurances that weeds and shadows don’t help to create blooms except when we select the choice that its impossible for them to do so.
The light looks different when we realize that walking our messy paths includes finding the evidence of working options by passing through the rehearsal of the ones that don’t and that our potential isn’t determined in either place but in what we decide to say so if necessary, make another selection and then go from there.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
When relief from our weather isn’t something that we know is right around the bend, not giving up sometimes means making decisions in the moment that may take up space in the tomorrows as regret, adding to the presence that sorrow already holds in our stories.
We see those moving parts as further proof of our letting ourselves down but while that storyline does have a way of enabling our losing ourselves into nothingness, it also has the ability to help us find that something can come from the choices that we feel remorse for.
In the dark, the light feels comforting and safe and in the weeds, flowers are a welcome reprieve from what makes us uncomfortable and hurts however it isn’t really the unwanted things on our trails that makes us doubt ourselves but rather our alignment to every contributing mark that exists for us.
After all, we actually learn more from our being off target then we do from our being precise but because we have been equating unhappiness with being wrong and happiness as being right, our imperfect steps have us believing that our stories don’t go well long before we have even turned the page.
So what if all of our moments are worthy of a second look with the idea that joy has never been conditional upon our not being sad just as the grip of our tears of distress do not disqualify liquid spilling from our eyes as we laugh until our stomachs hurt?
We are all just living in the colors and words of our stories and those items are meant to be expanded or replaced or even allowed to fade to the back as we discover what works and what doesn’t on journeys that hold climbs and falls that are never accurate but are always ours to progress on.
Our regrets are the things that make us blue and yet that hue is also what we look for in the sky to validate that a storm is passing, so allow yourself to be mistaken because the lines of today could say exactly the same as yesterday but the collaboration of your movements can make who you are a safe place to be even if you feel unhappy.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Tucked comfortably between the hues of green and violet is the color of blue and over the course of our lives, our understanding of what it defines has changed from a pigment that is used to depict the sky and water to being a single word that represents the unhappy feels that we have.
Technically blue is the correct term to bundle grief together with but it’s generalization doesn’t touch on the deeper meaning of the experiences and custom-made emotions that actually make up why each of us carry sadness.
The challenge of that art is that what it encompasses for one isn’t the same for all which leaves many feeling unheard and stuck in the confusion of the favorite cast that sorrow has taken to join us with.
No one asks for that kind of multi-toned item to be something that they know intimately and yet it’s the type of dragon that doesn’t actually need a reason to exist nor does it care where anyone is or what they look like when it does decide to show up.
And if that particular version has convinced us that it is who we are, we will prove that it is true and while there may be evidence to support that obvious choice, it isn’t always the one that we should make for ourselves.
So when unwanted context enfolds us, we don’t have to think positively about our lives but we can keep trying by committing to being certain that we will eventually find our way to the other forms that also hold our presence.
Blue was never meant to be a word to be lost in or a color-wash that appears perfectly on some trails so when we voice it, we need to say it right so that the validation of it belongs to us as individuals rather than our struggling to fit ourselves into what it means for someone else.
It has never just been about the flowers or even the weeds because both can factually begin with blue and then emerge over time through colors that we have yet to imagine as being a part of our stories.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
Grief is a vulnerable and permanent journey that appears in many forms and although each of us know it in some manner, it does not breathe the same in any of our hearts nor do the details of our experiences read alike in our individual stories.
For a few, it has the ability to randomly pull them back into the history of the past by uncovering the knowledge of their losses even when the lighting is just right and they are no where near those moments from the yesterdays.
A portion hold a pain that knows no boundaries in the gardens of their lives and although they try to create the walls that will contain its growth, for some, it will somehow still cast shadows and seep into the beds of their dreams and hopes for happiness.
Several carry it as the reminders that they have been changed by being enfolded by its events even though their reflection in the mirror remains as a familiar one.
For others it is a rollercoaster of emotions and blooming thoughts that affect their ability to cope, to show up and to communicate not only with others but especially with themselves.
For even more, the timeless messages of sorrow are present in the energy of their steps and their desire that who they are tomorrow, will have finally made sense of the pain that they can’t seem to leave behind today.
For most, its power lies not in the volume or type but by simply being the marks of their travels that have found a way to bleed through page after page, muddying their art no matter how careful they try to be with their brushstrokes and words.
What grief is not, regardless of who it belongs to, is an experience to get over, a single mountain to climb, a place for judgement or something to compare because rejecting the bonds that we individually hold with our struggles only validates why they should continue to flourish.
The conflict is not that we are embraced by those encounters but that we have yet to understand that our unrehearsed trails have the space for us to laugh, cry, love and fall however it is ourselves who fear the weather, the darkness and the weeds.
And so it goes with sometime warriors whose hearts have been touched by the loss of people, places and things and recovering from that grief isn’t in letting them go but in noticing with curiosity how we have coped before so that we may use that as the guides for the goals of doing it differently today.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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