In the desert
The Desert. Bleak and vast. Dry and weathered. And yet: life. Life forms and dies. And so does my heart. Far away mountains embolden me and colors surround me. The sun still rises and sets here.
The problem with the past is that it follows us. We carry it alongside us even when we try to leave it behind. There’s often a duality of emotion within the heart: the heavy grief of what’s been taken or lost, mixed right into the hope for the future, for change, for strength and different circumstances. I find myself telling myself to leave the past behind me and just move on. Get over it. Keep moving forward. Is this a choice? Is it a choice to just set something down and walk away from it? With physical objects I can do this. Emotions and experiences are much less black and white. I visualize the process of setting down my grief, my pain, the experiences I wish would have been different. I set them down there in the past, and seek to move forward and away from them into something new. But then sometimes grief and pain and sadness all stop me in their tracks and I have to sit in it for a minute. Or a long moment. Or a day. When ready, I eventually stand back up and keep moving forward into this new and different life. I’m guessing this is just what the grief process looks like. And maybe just the ‘life’ process. I’m not an expert, just a human.