Every now and then, we enter into a season of our life where certain memories, or feelings, or thoughts cause us to almost resent the very breathe that we draw, the very life that is the gift of the creator becomes a curse. It feels like this is the current season for me. The senseless reruns. The momentary swings between happy and sad. The broken images, fading in fading out, like a slideshow gone wrong, infected by the virus of being double minded about whether to keep the memory or to forget it. I’ve wished for it to go away many times. But somehow it stays. Someone once told me that everything is good for something. Oh really… I’d think to myself often, what the heck is this good for.
Yet I know for certain, that truth is truth no matter how little of it is relevant to our situations. Gravity will cause us to fall whether or not we’re on the ground or 10,000 feet up in the air, getting ready to jump off a plane. Could there really be something more?
Then there was that conversation with T. He suggested that this season and with it the ability to feel, and hurt and cry, is temporal. It will not last. But while it does, it’s worthwhile cherishing it, immersing in it. Letting it write poetry, songs, and prose. Because one day, these thoughts and memories will not evoke the same emotions anymore. And we might just miss feeling these feelings. So let it be.
Does anyone resonate with me?