Most of you know, I have had a year of incredible change. In the last year, I have gone through the most intense emotional experiences of my life. I am now in sort of the denouement of this experience, trying to look at the deconstructed pieces of my self and my life and decide how I can put them together into something whole again.
The other day I was walking with Sumo in the farmland near my apartment, and was thinking (again) over the experiences of the last year, and the loss, and the changes, and how the hell to move on. I had (as I do occasionally these days) a little glimmer of hope, a whisper from my heart that it could be whole, that I will love again. Almost immediately I felt terrible.
Why, I asked myself?
Because, to heal from love feels somehow like a denial of the love that came before, almost a dual tragedy, of loss and recovery. Or maybe it is simply a testament of the miraculous capacity of the heart, to continue to give and love.
I realized then that to accept the healing, one must truly let go of the hope that the love will survive. And of course, if it is real love, it will always be there in some form, but my heart is crying now for the "big" love I have lost, the partnership, the intimate connection with another soul.
So Sumo and I walked on, and my thoughts ranged over the events of my life, other changes I have gone through, other hardships endured. Though none compare, it gave me a bit of solace, the knowledge that I have felt before the pain of having to let go. Like a piece of my very self was torn from me and forever lost.
What I know from those other times is that with the destruction comes new growth, always. I have been turned down a path that I never would have willingly tread, but if I walk it with honesty, with faith in love, and in the goodness and power of life itself I believe I will be whole, and I hope that I will find happiness and fulfillment.
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Rumi
About Me
- Angela
- Zurich, Switzerland
- Welcome! I store all my random thoughts, ideas and experiences here for those who are interested or curious about my various life adventures. I love it that you are reading, and it inspires me to keep writing!
The weeping cherry tree survives but it has yet to thrive. I do expect this Spring it will blossom with magnificent beauty. It was shaded by a large white oak, that died and had to be removed. It was a loss. I counted one hundred thirty rings. It also changed the entire yard and my well conceived land scaping designs. Alas! However, I had more flowers and butterfly's. I get so elated when I see a butterfly. And the cherry tree seems to enjoy its new prominence in the yard. I will think of you when it blooms. All the best in 2012.
ReplyDeleteDonald
Donald,
DeleteWow...I have been thinking so much these days of my work at the nursery. I always started there in February, when I needed that contact the most. I miss it now.
The loss of a big tree is something that seems so much larger than us. I remember when I was a kid, and we had a tornado come through the farm. We emerged from the cellar to find many of the 100+ year old trees on the property scattered around, root balls in the air. So sad. But it is a powerful moment to reflect on death and change....which is also such a real and present part of our lives.
I like to think of that little rescued cherry tree, living on in your yard, and blooming more beautifully than ever this spring.
I hope that we can catch up the next time I am in town.
All the best to you as well. :)