I visited the Ruins...it seemed appropriate

I visited the Ruins...it seemed appropriate

It was a Sunday morning.  That Sunday morning, I learned the Truth.

It was a Truth I had known, one that I had felt and had been shown in dreams, but a Truth that had not until that moment been confirmed. And there it was, looming and large and imposing and not going away.  Now that it was there staring intently into my heart and soul, I was numbed by the pain of it.  My body literally imploded upon itself as I screamed a silent "NO!" that couldn't find its voice on the outside.  My body and the Truth were fighting inside and I tried to make sense of it all with my brain spinning and struggling to remember which way was up.  It left me feeling weak, out of my body, with cold chills and cold sweats, and unable to stomach food.  

It was a hard Truth.  It meant letting go of Hope.  It meant letting go of 20 years.  It meant letting go of what I thought the Future held.  I really wasn't ready and everything inside of me struggled and battled with this Truth leaving me alone and naked, a shell holding onto just my breath in that moment. Holding onto just my heartbeat, my pounding heartbeat against the barred walls inside my chest that was desperately looking for a way out of the intense pain, in that moment.  I held on tight to this hard Truth with a sense of surrender and trust that eventually I would emerge from this deep dark place somehow stronger.

The Egyptian Goddess Isis knew this pain.  She knew this feeling of your heart being torn out from your chest while it was still beating, hoping. She knew she had to give in to that insane pain for however long it needed to be held while it cried and let go of everything because she knew that she would remember how to get back to her own Truth.  The only way to get to it was through it.  Hang on tight and go through it.  Go through it.  Go through it.  Go through it.

Eventually at one point I became incredibly calm and heard a Voice inside of me that wrapped its arms around me, held me in that Truth and allowed me to process it fully ...

"It is not the end of the world,"  she said.

For the past year and a half I have allowed myself to honor my little animal self and hide away from the hurt.  I have allowed myself to emerge a little here and there at times when it felt safe.  I have allowed myself to trust deeper, to surrender more fully, to let go more completely. Has it been hard?  OMG...yes!  Has it felt like I really couldn't do it anymore?  Hell...yes!  Have I lost hope?  Have I given up?  Have I fought my way back up on my feet again and again and again?   




Moving through the pain of a relationship shifting from the way that you once knew it so well is hard as hell.  But somewhere in there you learn more about yourself than you ever thought you would.  You learn more about stillness and finding yourself in the dark.  You learn more about creativity than you thought you had in you.  You learn more about the strength you have that you didn't know existed.

Everything is not complete yet, but that is just the outside stuff.  The inside stuff continues to get stronger and continues to look for the beauty of what is left inside the ruins.

I have incredible children.  I have learned about business.  I have learned about giving and receiving support through hard times.  I have learned about cooking and driving a trailer.  I have learned about diseases and hospitals and insurance.  I have learned about the government and taxes and keeping records.   I have learned how to be a partner.  I have learned how to be myself.  

I have remembered that we are all on a journey and that sometimes souls pass in the night but they are always connected.  I have remembered that we all have destinys to fulfill and lessons to learn.  I have remembered that there is still so much more life ahead.

"It is not the end of the world."

That is the Truth I am holding onto with all that I've got while it strengthens my bones and takes me to what is next for me in my life.  Do I know what this is?  Do I know what this looks like?  

No. It is still trying to figure itself out, unfolding slowly, painfully, carefully.  I just need to trust.  And to trust that every decision is the right one and that every confusion is part of the beauty of the human experience.  

It is only the beginning.