There are some moments in life where I float above myself and look down and think, what is happening? Is this a real moment?
Then, it can feel like a slap in the face. Some slaps are ones I welcome. I want to feel the pain and the jolt back to reality. I shouldn’t be living in a fantasy land.
But the taste of reality makes me sad. It makes me feel a homesickness for a time that never existed. A nostalgic feeling for a small floating pink bubble of magic. The bubble keeps floating higher.
Or is it popping and am I falling to the ground?
My stomach hurts, my throat hurts, my eyes hurt, and I feel small and defeated.
There are so many moments that pile on each other.
I am sitting in my car meditating, and I look at my phone at a text that comes in, and I start crying.
Why am I crying?
I open my eyes and see the trees swaying in the breeze through the dirty windshield. The car needs to be washed. And the tears are still coming. I try to relax and let them come. I bring up a ridiculously sad song to make it worse.
Reality bites? It nibbles.
It’s a good reminder.
But I’m still sad.
I’m healing.
Healing means grieving.
Grieving is accepting.
Accepting takes time.
