The only thing I know for sure, in all of the hard and uncertainty of late, is I'm not going to lay down and die.
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I say that a lot lately, '. . . lay down and die.' Jodie. Just what do you mean by that? Am I being literal? Figurative? What gives? It's just my way of saying there's more out there, still. Even though. More coming my way, more to do, more to see, experience, fall in love with and be loved by. And I'm not going to miss any of it.
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Holding me back though, is sometimes I don't want to even leave the house. Return a text. Make the effort. Hope. Keep the faith. Sometimes my only want is to crawl inside a bottle of wine with a backpack full of cookies and reside there for a spell. Sometimes I just can't even, with any of it.
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It's during those times I'm learning to give myself room; space aplenty to feel all the feels and then to gingerly set them aside once they've had their way with me. I don't try to banish them or squelch them anymore, they've taught me I'm simply wasting my time in the effort. For they won't be relegated to either fate.
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The pain, sadness, regret, and fear, they're all fervently trying to teach me something. Collectively making it clear they're not going anywhere until the lessons have all been learned, absorbed, and repurposed into power. Into good. Into me being willing and able to turn around and use them to help the next one in line.
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Just as soon as I can though, I throw back the heavy curtains the scary feelings pulled tight and I quite literally force myself out of the house and back into the arms of big, enduring love. For me, that's into the particular corner of wilderness I've a strong affinity for and fierce loyalty to. Into the wild of the wind and majesty found in the great out of doors in God's country. And onto a trail that'll lead me back to one of the great loves of my life; the mountains that surround my body and give rise to at once, both the softest and strongest bits of my soul.
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