Every Friday we unite for five minutes to write on one word. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on heal.
Up before the sun is, I sit and listen to the nothing.
Up before the chaos starts, I sit in the quiet of my day.
Up before the mothering begins, I sit in the moments that are just me.
Up before the work life balance shifts, I sit and heal.
I feel as though my life, like so many others, is a constant tornado of reactions and then reflections on how I could have,
how I should have,
handled that differently
responded with more gentle calm
and how I start to heal.
Several years ago, I met a person that melted my anger, did not allow me to walk away from joy and normal and without even knowing it,
showed me how to let go.
Not through always talking about it, but by living.
Because when you live in joy, you cannot hold on to anger and hate.
It all sort of washes away and you just start living life, for you.
He healed a part of me that I did not realize, until once again reflecting on it, that felt ill.
I didn't realize I was a tornado moving through my life at full speed, but not noticing the damage I was doing.
And today, as I reflect back on the past five, six, seven years,
as I hear from others who took a strong step back in their work
or their toxic relationships
or their lack of balance
as I hear "I was really good at this, but it meant I was also a bad mother and wife"
and it hits such a cord with me,
that I once again sit, look back on the tornado I created, reflect on what I could have
what I should have done differently.
How my time for change is now
Joining you as your FMF neighbor. Beautiful words this morning.
Visiting you from FMF, and I can really relate to this part:
"I feel as though my life, like so many others, is a constant tornado of reactions and then reflections on how I could have,
how I should have,
handled that differently"
I understand both the tornado and the aftermath, the picking up pieces while you try to figure out how to heal. Thanks for sharing your heart with us!