Do you remember the first day you looked up and the sky seemed to open up all around you instead of closing in? When your light pink Toms practically flitted across the broken pavement, and your first waking thought wasn’t to wonder if this was all real? Maybe you haven’t felt that weightless in ages and wonder if that day will ever really come. That’s okay too. As for me, I don’t remember the exact day or time, but I can tell you it was a good one. That I took an extra second in bed that morning to stretch tightly and then fall back into the delightfully cozy warmth of an early morning.
Sometimes you can literally feel the extra bit of welded on ache fall from your heart and for some it’s like the slow erosion and pressure of turning a hunk of coal to Tiffany’s. It’s not always a clean break, but when the sorrow seems to fade, and you feel all light like a ballerina on those pretty pink toes, don’t you go back lookin’ for the pieces. I don’t wanna find you on your knees in the dirt, hands full of scrounged up leftover heartache and eyes down, sayin’, “It’s okay.. This is just me now, but it’s fine. Really.” We’ve all done it, trudged back to that dirt lookin’ for something that’s already gone.
Lovely, you are not the only person to sit in that dark corner without even a light above trying to figure out how heartbreak and moving on fit in the same suitcase. But, the problem with carrying fistfuls of bitter and pain is that your heart wants to watch them float like the lilies down the stream. Light and death all in one beautiful bloom. But that’s the tension isn’t it? For so long, they both had to be in that suitcase. They really truly did and they loaded it down like a bunch of rocks. But now it’s dragging and you just gotta let go love. The pain was never meant to stitch itself up and along the very edges of your outlines so that when you let it drop you look up, face shocked, because the ache seems to be part of your very being.
There is a point where you hear a whisper softly telling you somewhere deep, that you don’t need the bitter, the pain, and the wrenching heaviness of replaying every last word. Hands all balled up because you can’t see what will fill them once you let grief slip out. Grief may have wrapped itself up and around & nestled into the softest parts of your heart, but now look at it. Yes you, look at your heart. Look because what you’ll see past the calloused over grief is something new that is brimming over with compassion and grace. Let those newfound strengths seep out in heaping handfuls into the broken hearts that will now speak to you as if they were your own. Let your fists fall and wrap your beautiful fingers around the handle of that brown patched up suitcase. I think if you were to open up that old carrying case and take out the damn rocks, you would find all the goodness that comes gushing in when you finally, let the pieces fall.
I am the first to tell you, that you can’t force the lightness that comes with healing. But if you are in the space where you can feel it and are still clinging to old hurts, afraid of the twinkling lights and laughter that just maybe could be tucked around the bend, then please let your fists fall and wander on. It’s worth it, I promise.