Really bad things happen to good people. It is always going to be that way. Pain is a word that you think you know until it slices away parts of your life and soul. The idea that it will ever get better, that you can fix any part of yourself, that you could ever imagine feeling anything again is foreign. Often, just someone trying to get you to understand that from the outside vacillates between annoying and insane. I am not interested in any one’s idea of what I am going through or how to heal. This pain belongs to me. I have to be the one to decide what to do with it.
Today I reread the first poem I ever had published and wept. That 15 year old had no idea what real, destructive, all encompassing pain was. She was still an optimist:
I’m surrounded by yesterdays,
Forever memories that don’t fade away.
Constructing tomorrows from what used to be,
The most important to me.
Dreams that float in my mind,
No order of any kind.
Creating happiness from mere thoughts,
For happiness is always sought.
I, romanticist, as they say?
Well, my dreams are good today.
I was seeing life through a fairy tale lens. What amazes me still is that it took me 23 years to find out that is not what it is really like. How do you explain this stuff to kids? How do I help my kids, really my girls, not be so surprised about what life can do when they think they they have every single thing they ever wanted and love deeper than they thought possible? How do I inspire them to dream, be excited and accepting of the great things they are destined to? How do I pass on joy?
I have to convince myself that fairy tales are possible…even if optimism has eluded me all these many months past.
So I try. I really try. Some days, I am better than others. I try hard to push past the pain and learn a lesson EVERY SINGLE DAY. It is hard. It pisses me off, yet still, I get up and I really try. This week, while listening to The Secret audio version on my commute for about the 100th time, a story stood out, advice I decided to take. I won’t bore you with the details but it was a gentleman that creates visualization boards, what he wants his life to look like, things he wants to have, the way he wants to live. Once he has those things, he creates a new one and thus far, the universe continues to reward his work.
What can it hurt? I crave the bliss and hope of an idealistic, positive person. I desire the ability to give into my wants and strike a balance between impulse and restriction. I have new places to visit, new foods to try, new things to learn, new friends to meet…and peace. I am thankful for the peace that is headed my way. I can’t wait to relax and breathe. That is my one fresh wish.
5 Comments Add yours
cool visualization board…i am super impressed by how creative & motivated you are and i totally dig the fairy tail lens poem
::bows graciously::It’s a little weird to look at it at this age..
I am a big believer in visualization. I hope you get your life back…and peace…and a great booty. 😉
I find your poem, written by you at age 15, to be most insightful.It is obvious you possessed an innate understanding of the power of visualization long before you ever listened to the “Secret”.We all seem to loose the ‘brilliance’ of our youth as we grow old and jaded. I feel it is because we suppress or squelch the greatest gift we’re given in our youth — our sense of wonder.At 61, I’ve suffered the death of my 18-year-old son Aaron, the multi-million dollar failure of a business, diabetes, a heart attack, AADD, OCD, and ongoing bouts with manic depression — but I refuse to sacrifice my sense of wonder, even if I have to battle myself to preserve it.
Thank you Rob for sharing. Some days are easier than others but I keep trying. I am glad you do too. 🙂