"There is no glimpse of the light without walking the path. You can't get it from anyone else, nor can you give it to anyone. Just take whatever steps seem easiest for you, and as you take a few steps it will be easier for you to take a few more.”~Peace Pilgrim
This happens to be a great quote to sum up my year. In the beginning of the year I felt totally in the dark, but did not know I was in the dark. I wondered why I felt so alone, so distraught, so sad, so wanting to run away, but to where? It was like I could not wake up. And yet I knew I was on some sort of path, that I had to stay whatever course I was mapping out for myself, because the course I was living was an absolute dead end, and it was going to kill my spirit. So I walked the path. No, I crawled the path. And wept along the path. It was by far the worst path in 45 years. But I had to do it, I had no choice. And that was clear. There was no option. I could not allow me to kill my spirit, to cheapen and lessen who I really was--hadn't I done that far too long?
I cannot really say it got any easier, but more so that I got used to it. It became my new reality, and in m a n y ways it is such a far superior reality to the one I was living. But no matter how many steps I take, it is not any easier to leave the life I wanted. It still sits with me, on my shoulder, a yearning that was never fulfilled, only in fantasy. And that is not any easier. I find myself still lost at any moment in it all. I was cleaning leaves, again, in the yard the other Sunday morning, and a light snow was falling, and my tears fell, almost as comfort in a way, for I was not so much sad, but just remembering so many feelings, it was in a way quite beautiful, in the still and quiet of the morning.
It is all part of the path. It only goes in one direction. I really have no idea where I am going, only what I am leaving behind.
This happens to be a great quote to sum up my year. In the beginning of the year I felt totally in the dark, but did not know I was in the dark. I wondered why I felt so alone, so distraught, so sad, so wanting to run away, but to where? It was like I could not wake up. And yet I knew I was on some sort of path, that I had to stay whatever course I was mapping out for myself, because the course I was living was an absolute dead end, and it was going to kill my spirit. So I walked the path. No, I crawled the path. And wept along the path. It was by far the worst path in 45 years. But I had to do it, I had no choice. And that was clear. There was no option. I could not allow me to kill my spirit, to cheapen and lessen who I really was--hadn't I done that far too long?
I cannot really say it got any easier, but more so that I got used to it. It became my new reality, and in m a n y ways it is such a far superior reality to the one I was living. But no matter how many steps I take, it is not any easier to leave the life I wanted. It still sits with me, on my shoulder, a yearning that was never fulfilled, only in fantasy. And that is not any easier. I find myself still lost at any moment in it all. I was cleaning leaves, again, in the yard the other Sunday morning, and a light snow was falling, and my tears fell, almost as comfort in a way, for I was not so much sad, but just remembering so many feelings, it was in a way quite beautiful, in the still and quiet of the morning.
It is all part of the path. It only goes in one direction. I really have no idea where I am going, only what I am leaving behind.
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