It was the most beautiful day in LA. So sunny and warm that the malaise of dreary winter weather seemed to melt away. The lawn glowed with a halo of dew evaporating off the blades of grass and the birds chirped joyfully. My sweet dog had a big happy smile on her face, panting while I sipped my coffee. There was an overwhelming sense of peace…like everything was right in the world.
And at the same time, a tugging in my chest. An inescapable pain. A knowing (that everything is not right in the world).
When I was younger, sorrow felt like an ailment to overcome. If my heart broke, it could be mended with new love. If I was disciplined, I could transform myself into something beautiful and worthy. I believed that it was possible to obtain a pure form of happiness if I was good enough. I thought I could escape that ominous feeling, but mostly I was just numbing or running from it.
It’s not so much that I am jaded now or that my ability to experience pleasure has been tainted, I just have a different vantage point. I see how most of what is good is juxtaposed by something painful. Like experiencing joy when much of the world suffers. Or realizing every moment is fleeting. It’s also because of this that I realize how lucky I’ve been in this life. That I was never lacking love in the first place.
But it’s the fuel that sparks my gratitude, that also floods me with a steady stream of grief. To recognize the duality of existence and hold both truths is to be at the same time, in awe of all the beauty and toppled over by sadness.
I grieve that my old dog will never be young again, that our time is limited. I grieve the skin on my cheeks that was smooth before the acne scars settled in. I grieve the friendships that have drifted away, the loved ones that I’ve lost. I grieve the unnecessary suffering of people all over the world. And as much as I want to embrace truth, I can’t help but grieve my younger self and the loss of my naivety. Each hard truth has a flip side that is rooted in love and the inevitability of change.
I’ve wanted to escape the pain. To push it away if there is no cure. But I’ve realized it’s not a visitor that can be asked to leave. It is as much a part of me as my smile and my curly hair. The only relief is to acknowledge it as part of the beauty. To not shy away from it, but instead, to let it wash over me like the warm breeze of a sunny day.
(And to laugh a little when it starts to rain).
That’s all for now! See you next week <3
“I grieve the skin on my cheeks that was smooth before the acne scars settled in. I grieve the friendships that have drifted away, the loved ones that I’ve lost. “
Thoughts like this have been in my mind so much lately. As I navigate becoming a mother. There is so much duality of unrelenting joy and as well as a since of loss.
❤️ thank you for putting these feelings into beautiful words.
felt <3