The past year has opened up a world I never knew existed. A world of feeling, beauty, sadness, pride and the deepest heartfelt love. Deeper than I ever imagined, and always growing.
There are beautiful bloggers out there who share their experiences of failure and success. Of hard days and boring routines. These brave souls give me glimpse of life. In all its many wondrous forms.
Sometimes their experiences bring me to tears. Relapse. Struggling to find even the start of sobriety. The loss of a spouse, the death of a friend, miscarriages and divorces. Hurt feelings and embarrassments. But these are real moments. I learn so much by reading of the experiences of others. My compassion and love towards other people grows daily.
As much as I wish I could take away the pain for others, I have learned that pain can be transformational. We all need to walk our own path and fight our own dragons. With as much help as we are willing to reach out for. Because help is ALWAYS there if you look for it. It really is.
And then there is the joy! I look forward to reading of each day of sobriety. The falling in love. The re-finding of normal life. That remembrance of living for the joy of it. Coffee, clean sheets, face cream and hugs from family. The relief at the other side of fear. The sudden realization that things are some much better than they thought. Or, at the very least, so much more manageable sober.
There are posts of such deep insight I am in awe. Quotes from poets and authours that have me adding to my reading list. Personal insights and experiences that help me every single day.
I think I had forgotten that there was such beautiful (or maybe, as Glennon says, Bruitful) honesty out there. It is rare to find in “real life”. Fear and social convention keep people silent.
I went to a grade 6 poetry slam a couple weeks ago and those kids were the most open, brilliant, soul bearing poets. They wrote of trying and failing. Of bullying. Of being a friend. Of self confidence and hurt. These were the bravest kids I have ever seen. 11 years old.
I am not alone. You are not alone. We are all struggling with the same inner fears of worth and finding our place. And we are doing it together. Each voice out there matters. Keep writing! And, if you can, maybe even tell your story to someone. The more we do it, the easier it becomes.
Thank you all for your voices.
Stillness and Peace.