I’ve been trying to write all day. I feel the pressure building up – it’s right there, under the surface, words that need to be released. But they are stuck. Which is appropriate I suppose, since I feel stuck today. It’s as if my soul has caught on a piece of gum discarded on this Road of Life, and by trying to pull free, I’m really just stretching out the residue. Emotional residue. My soul is sweating out toxins. It doesn’t feel good. That’s the catch – it’s not always going to feel good. Healing isn’t always tears of joy and gratitude, watching sunsets and chasing rainbows.
Sometimes, healing is messy. My tears are ones of frustration and pain. My gratitude feels hollow, as I can intellectually acknowledge the things I have but cannot connect it to my heart. Fear roars loudly in my ears, vibrates in my chest. Ghosts look over my shoulder, asking me to hear them. What can I do for you? What do you want me to say? Some days, I can’t shake a foreboding feeling. All I can do is breath through each moment as it comes – eyes closed, heart vulnerable, emotions raw. Acknowledging is healing. Breathing it in, then out again.
So I write to acknowledge. I write, re-read, shake my head, erase. I start a sentence, and without finishing start a different one. It’s messy. It’s disorganized. I look at the pieces and I can’t make sense of it. I will have to come back at another time and see if I can seam something together from hastily typed words.
Really, I guess my writing today looks exactly like my healing. It doesn’t always make sense. I am confused by my own journey. I think I am going in one direction, only to discover I was going another the whole time. What it looks like in my head versus what it looks like out of it are two different things. And making peace with that the best we know how, today. Tomorrow may look different. Tomorrow, I may have different words. And that is okay. It is all okay.
Healing is patience. Healing is saying, you’ve tried today. That’s enough. Come back tomorrow and try again.