“…in the end” – Another reminder
Hi again, Devon – just read your post ‘…in the end’. What a testament to vulnerablility and strength! In fact, just from reading your thoughts in this short time that I’ve discovered them, I am struck with the idea that your vulnerability is your strength! As difficult as I think it must be, you are able to experience that one moment of float, of balanced well-being, long enough and often enough to experience the vulnerary effect that brings healing and a renewed sense of purpose. I hope to enjoy your insights for a long time to come and to learn to be willing to exert the effort that brings that moment of float into my experience, even if only once in awhile…always hoping to go from good to better. All the best to one of the best!
You have no idea how much I needed to be reminded of that post. The last few weeks have been pretty rough. Honestly, they’ve sucked ass. Badly. With sandpaper. But I couldn’t remember which post you were replying to, so I went back and reread “…in the end” – and I made myself cry a little. Being a sextuple Cancer ain’t easy. 😉
Life is full of rhythms, and those cycles, by their definition, have high and low points. May and June I was definitely cresting. July… well… not so much. It feels like a nadir, if I’ve ever had one. However, I wanted to thank you for reminding me that I already knew that everything will be okay in the long run.
Yesterday I said to Keith Bailey, the photographer with whom I’m collaborating on a new project, that I feel like I have never in my life been in the right place at the right time. What total nonsense. That statement leapt out of my head and mouth because of tension about money. Take money out of the equation and there is a very simple truth: I have always been exactly where I needed to be, exactly when I needed to be there. Over the last few weeks I’ve been wanting to throw my hands up in resignation about almost every single aspect of the various situations that blend together to make “my life.” But that’s not really a mature option, now is it?
Thanks again Tom – you brought me back to center. I feel a little better. I think. (Surrender is difficult – it is an act of humility, and humiliation is painful at times.)