There is beauty in darkness. There is purpose in pain. Blessed are moments of suffering, for they create opportunity for compassion, forgiveness and growth. How easily we forget that one cannot exist in the absence of the other.
I have been reading some of my old journals these past few days, reflecting on darker moments when depression was my closest friend. There is much truth in sadness, and there is rebirth in its passing. A flicker of light shines brightest in a black room.
12/6/05 “There is a place where innocence goes when it dies, like a gathering of butterflies startled into flight. A collection of light swirling in a tornado of time and space, as if the sky opened up and called “I love you. Come home” and they did. It is a dance so beautiful that one must turn their gaze or burn lazer thin slices in exposed retinas. Staring at the collective innocence is like peaking at a solar eclipse. You can only see something so sacred through a special lens or reflected in painted glass… as if it were not intended for us to see at all. Some things were not meant to be seen, like a dream that wakes you from sleep. ”
I miss my old friend. There was something naked and raw and undeniably real about meeting death with locked eyes and cold hands. Today I sat with her in my grief, rocking and remembering, and she washed my heart in my own tears. Just before I fell into the warm embrace of sweet slumber, she whispered “I love you. Go home.” And I did.
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January 25, 2008 at 12:40 pm
mrschili
All I can say, all anyone can say, really, is I’m here if you need me. It feels like nothing, but it’s all I can do until you can find a use for me.
love,
Chili
January 29, 2008 at 12:45 am
Dad
In many respects, life is not unlike a familiar room, warm and comfortable. We enjoy relaxing in our room, surrounded with things and people we love, things that have meaning or provide stability to our existence. We may venture outside from time to time, but we always return to the safety and security of our favorite room.
Everything in its place, we know our room so well that we can easily navigate through it in total darkness, never bumping into the furniture. But then one day we do bump into something in the dark. Something in our familiar room is not where it is supposed to be. Upon turning on the light, we notice that some things have shifted over time. Some things naturally shift over time a little bit each day, and we don’t notice. Sometimes external forces move our furniture and things more than just a little. We feel violated. Someone or something has been messing with my stuff.
How we react to our stuff being moved around is determined by how flexible we are about change. When we let other people into our room, there is always the chance that something might get moved or broken, but that is the chance we take. People we let into our room might bring some of their stuff with them. Now “our room” means something different. When two people are sharing the same room, rules need to be established so each knows where everything is and its importance.
When stuff gets broken from time to time, we have two options, repair it or throw it in the trash. It is easy to throw stuff away. Repairing stuff and recycling takes time and effort. I guess it depends on how much you loved the thing that got broken or how much pleasure you derived from it. It has always been my feeling that most things can be fixed as good as new, sometimes stronger.
Reality is what the room looks like after the light comes on. It is often a good idea to turn the light on from time to time.
Love, Dad
February 16, 2008 at 2:43 pm
twoblueday
Get a teddy bear instead.
Seriously, breaking up is hard to do (trite line, used in a zillion trite songs, I’m thinking as I write of the Walker Brothers). When lovers deliberately do something which they know for a fact will be devastating to you emotionally, they are asking you to do what they are too weak to do, to move on, and I think the last and best gift to them is to send them packing. Trying to fix others’ flaws is a fool’s game.
I wonder if toxic people are addictive, like tobacco and heroin.