Spain! The most beautiful place. Sea all around me, wine flowing, the language I love, my sweet mother; not a care in the world. Yet… I couldn’t get out of bed some of the days. I’d cry on and off, all day somedays. From walking down the streets, to laying on the couch, trying to hold back tears as I ordered a tea or said hello to the guard. I get it. I get the feeling of ‘what the heck is wrong with me! Why am I so overwhelmingly sad?! I shouldn’t be sad. I shouldn’t feel this way. Why am I even sad? What the fuck is wrong with me?’
For once, I am picking me. I am tearing my softness away from you, from the warmth of your arms, in order to find someone else who will put me above their ache.
I am leaving so I can find someone who will search my eyes for the questions.
Who will find my laugh lines and ask the stories behind them.
Maybe instead I should replace the grasping and grabbing with tenderness. Actual tenderness. Tenderness that calms me. Instead of being so stressed that I’m running late for work and taking it out on the coffee lady (who has no control over my life either) maybe I should just breathe and be kind to her. Maybe instead of taking out all my annoyance on my roommate because I’m stressed over a school project, I should ask her how she really is.
My yoga instructor always says, at the end of each class, “The light in me honors the light in you. We are here on this earth to heal ourselves and then help heal each other.” We are all so connected. We need each other so desperately. If I actually realized how deeply I’m connected to the lady who makes my coffee, or my bartender, or sister, or the black kid who was recently shot, or the cop that just died in Alaska, it would change everything.
But somehow I haven't quite learned how to do that when the dark, cinema screen of depression closes in, just as fast and twice as painfully. Why can’t I seem to learn it and outsmart it the way I can when the darkness starts in on me physically? I haven't learned how to emotionally put my head between my legs and let the oxygen get back to my heart. Instead I sit in the darkness as it closes in and instead of fainting, I’m fully aware of the sadness that sits like a rock on my chest. Instead of losing consciousness, I don’t sleep at all.
Sometimes we need letters and reminders when we left. What we believe in, and what we believe we deserve. This is for you, sister, friend, daughter, mother. You are not alone. Rise up, and fight for the love that awaits you.
SO YOU WANNA GO TO CUBA? I thought I'd write up a little how to/tips and tricks/pics and experiences from my recent Havana excursion! Feel free to message me on my 'contact' page with any questions! AND GO TO CUBA! It's really THAT amazing!
Here I am to the pain,
to the beauty,
to the change and transition.
Here I am to what may come next, though I do not know or understand.
Here I am to encountering the divine.
Here I am to joy and sorrow.
I will be fully present.
I will be fully here in this moment, in a stance of full vulnerability and access.