Letting Light In

Some days, I start moving and I think, I just might survive. And then I trip over memories like broken glass, the tiniest shard can shatter me. In fact, those are often the most devastating. I’m unprepared, no explanation for the ambush that can help me recover. I can prepare for the big ones, the ones we know we will have to suffer through, like holidays and birthdays. These I can anticipate, I have space to brace myself. But some things have no warning, no foresight. In fact, I might be in high-functioning mode one minute and the next, shattered. 

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck between reality and denial. I know the reality, but my heart just can’t take it. So I remain stuck in this sometimes numb, sometimes shattered place. Images of what was spin in circles while I search for solid ground. 

Broken glass. That’s what it feels like. 

Every morning when I wake up it feels like I’ve been pushed into an ocean of sharp, jagged, piercing broken glass. And there’s no way out. My only hope is that time will soften the painful edges, like sea glass. Allowing me to hold them, run my finger along the edges, and appreciate the beauty, depth of color, and unique shape. 

Someday, maybe I will be able to feel the beauty of this ocean, but for now, I’m just trying to survive the pain.

I don’t know how to do this - Today I’m just surviving. But what helps me survive is believing that one day I will be able to pick up the pieces still shining with vibrant color and experience the beauty without the pain of the sharp edges 

I think the thread of hope in much of what I write is that even though today I am suffering …

There will be a day when there is greater beauty and less suffering. What keeps me going is the hope that I will get there. This I know, I still have my ability to create light.