Or perhaps an ever spiraling upward continuation. I’m excited about 2016, a contrived demarcation of time it’s true, but a demarcation nonetheless.
2015 has been a solid year of growth. I completed and published my memoir, The Moon To Play With, A Daughter’s Journey Through Love, Loss, and the Power of Presence. I’ve had book launch parties and done Barnes & Noble events. I’ve reconnected with friends from the past and entered bookstores in numerous states that carry my book. I’ve joined two writers’ groups, one in New York, and one in Connecticut.
And, of course, I have continued to work through the grief of my losses. I have had the good fortune to meet exceptional people in key positions in my life, which have changed me for the better. I have muddled through crying jags that felt never-ending, and heart and back pain that ached incessantly. But then, as compassion for myself and others grew, and vulnerability switched from a hindrance to an asset, something remarkable occurred. The mud that had been caked on my heart began to crumble and break off in chunks, leaving a pink and beating heart to face the world, not a concealed, imprisoned one.
Imagine the difference that can make in one’s choices.
And the heavy pain subsided, although missing those who have passed has not.
Whatever energies I then exuded, attracted a different strata of human my way. I expected and looked for this in my past, but I was unaware that I hadn’t done the work that would open the door allowing me entrance. It is awe-inspiring and life-changing for this self proclaimed seeker to recognize and admit what I didn’t know I didn’t know.
When my life was shrouded in opaque veils and foggy clouds, I leaned in to acknowledge where I was. Less from understanding the value of this behavior than from a lack of strength to resist it.
A year or two later, I found ‘what I want’ lists in my nightstand drawer. Can you believe all the items on the list I had acquired? And not from going after them as goals, but from handling the issues right in front of me, none of which I ‘wanted’ or would have chosen consciously.
Never confuse an unexamined life with a good life.