Sometimes it hits me, the darkness, the silver lining. I can't find the door behind which I wait.
I feel empty and I feel full. I feel wounded and
I feel surrendered. I feel uncertainty and I feel conviction. I feel confused and I feel discovered. I feel bound and I feel untethered. I feel all of it at once.
I lay my head down on Jerry's lap and feel his instant connection, gentle fingers in my hair, weighted arm about my waist. He allows me to express it all and to feel empowered by it. Tears, snot, words, sounds, the man creates a holding place where my outpourings are held gently and where I am strengthened through it all.
This is life, he will say in a whisper, it is complicated and you, you must not be afraid to feel it.
Then gently, in waves, it passes through the two of us and I am warmed and reminded that this life comes in in a rush, and that this too shall pass. It is a reminder to appreciate the absolute beauty and certainty that is my life.
I am again reminded of the substantiality of my role in this life, of the connections that bear me forward.
It is the connections that save me, as well as my personal integrity. And my antidepressant and my sun lamp and my husband and my other loved ones. It is my connections. For it is the connections between each of us and our beloveds that makes this world tolerable,
joyful, even transcendent. It is my hunger for peace and love that will save me.
These days will pass and I will, again, find my way. I am certain of it for I have found my way again and again in my 54 years of life. The cycle comes around and, soon, I will be back to myself. I do not fear these days because, truly, this is a part of the humanness of being alive. You and I know that imperfection is the norm, not the falseness of TV and movies and social media. This is real.
All will be well.