Our feelings and the memories that provide a home for them can be as unwelcoming as change is but whether we think about them or not, our hearts will continue to value what’s there even when we seek safety by denying their existence in order to make it appear as if they were nothing. Perhaps it’s that we believe by moving them from the light into the shadows or leaving them behind in the yesterdays or by using substances they will be silenced and cease to be a part of us but the real truth is that the power of what has been done, lived and breathed, cannot be undone through comfortableness and easiness or by forgetting that something has occurred. Even our ability to perceive of having trust, fondness and friendship for ourselves and with others is affected by our hiding of those objects which just adds to the weight of what we are already carrying. Those items are essentially the beholders of our pain and so long as they stay in our collection of things in the same form, they will find all sorts of ways to be illuminated until we do what scares us most which is, of course, being in and going through the weeds. Can you imagine a place where someone failed to show up for you in whatever manner that it occurred? Can you, then, turn around and view how trying to lose parts of yourself is the very same thing but appears to be different because of the details that surround it? Following Ryan’s overdose at the age of eighteen, he was sober for about eleven months until a catastrophic event in his life, a “choice” by another addict, pushed him over the edge again. He was driving one evening and as he approached a part of the street that was darkened by a non-working street light and the shadow of a very tall tree, he encountered a person who was drunkenly walking directly in his path and unable to stop in time, he hit that individual. As a part of the investigation, the police drew his blood at the scene of the accident which proved he was sober. The knowledge of that was a heaven or a beauty in a hellish situation but what was much harder to perceive of, because there’s no test for it, was how he felt in the moment that he and that other person collided and subsequently whether his memories of what had occurred in just a matter of seconds would result in his seeking safety from those feelings and thoughts through substance use once again. Would the words “why was that person there or if only he or she hadn’t been” be on repeat in his mind making it impossible to escape them without the help of a substance? I know how that accident affected me but that particular view from the outside wasn’t aware of the value of what it felt like in his heart; the person who actually lived it. For some, his falling from that moment was just an excuse to use, as if he was a failure as a whole, rather than being seen as a “flipping out” in response to a traumatic event even though those same people also “flip out” in their lives but in different ways that appear to be acceptable. After all, fear, pain, grief, hell and even happiness are experienced individually and they are never ever felt in the exact same way nor are they always expressed in a manner that we understand for that reason as well. When I pass this way again, I can see that some of my anger with Ryan was because I just couldn’t understand how he could fail to be there for himself and for me it seemed simple enough to deal with those “small things” but whenever we are in hell, what’s there is never ever something we can just “get over” or leave behind. As I look both ways, I am able to view how my not leaning in to hear his perspective from that particular circumstance facilitated his not showing up for himself once again and the real truth is that it had occurred at other times as well. Our desire to solve very complicated issues in the easiest and most comfortable way possible by losing parts as if they were nothing does not provide safety nor fondness for those who are carrying the weight of the world. It’s no wonder why it takes so long for anyone to find his or her way through such an unwelcoming and painful place on the inside as well as on the outside. Memories and feelings are funny things because each one has the ability to effect us as a forget me not for far longer than we believe or had hoped for. In a different truth, though, those items are by no means just the reminders of dreaded “f” moments that appear to reflect us as being only failures and impossibilities because they are actually a part of how change continually enfolds us until we recognize that we have been forgetting to show up for ourselves in any kind of life’s most difficult moments. In other words, the power of what hurts won’t fade in the dark or just quietly disappear into the past but if we go back and encircle those forget me nots and lean in to hear them, the beauty of them will be illuminated by that transformation helping us to go through on such a ride in the weeds. Oh hell, the words “forget me nots” are perceived as being the symbolism of appreciation and love and what better place to be enfolded by those feelings than when we are scared, in pain and struggling to breathe? Have the best day possible for you and remember to love you where you are as a step towards understanding your story. Love Always, Heavell
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