I don’t know why I all the sudden feel so comfortable with putting it all out there. I have always considered myself to be a pretty private person, only telling my most personal things to close friends that I have grown to really trust. To say that I don’t care what other people think of me isn’t it. It has more to do with me believing that everyone struggles with something. And here is me, talking about my something.
Do you have a favorite book that you read when you need to feel grounded, or a place that you visit? My grounding place used to be my Grandma and Grandpa’s house. They passed away one year after another when I was thirteen and fourteen years old. Everything about visiting them grounded me; the town, running errands with my Grandma, sitting by the fire with my Grandpa, their smokey garage, and the way history could be felt throughout their house. My Grandma always had chocolate within arms reach. Going to their house felt like a big hug. Even after just spending a couple days there, it always felt like everything within me was centered again. This was achieved without thinking, without reading a book or saying a word. Things happen in our worlds and we do not always understand right away why. I miss them all the time, but I know they are always with me.
This feels like I am writing in my journal, but I am also writing to you all. I opened my laptop to write about one thing: pain. It felt right after writing about being broken a couple posts ago (and thank you to everyone who read that post, it means so much to me). Maybe it is telling that the first thing that I naturally start to write about when I think about pain is losing two of the most important people who were in my life. We feel pain every day, on different levels and in different ways. There is physical pain that is bearable because it heals through the natural process of life. And then there is the pain that doesn’t heal so quickly….that we have to work at and open ourselves to. It is the pain that is felt through emotions and evoked through experiences. The type of pain that doesn’t hurt and isn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but is real and carries energy. As I think about this more and more, I believe it is the energy that connects us to our spirit. When we struggle with something, this “painful” energy must pass through us to heal, but it doesn’t take away from our lives, it adds to it. It must be felt, completely and in every way that it is whole.
Everything we experience, good or bad, gives us an opportunity to grow. When I was thirteen and fourteen years old, I was also beginning to become my most insecure. I didn’t know who I was, and I needed guidance. The place I would go to feel grounded was gone, and I needed it more than ever.
I wouldn’t change a thing about my life so far, because it has led me to the clarity I am beginning to feel. Of course I would give anything to spend one last day with my Grandma and Grandpa, but I feel comfort in knowing that they are always with me, and they are there to give advice if I am just willing to listen.
Our pain teaches us so much about ourselves.
Usually I reread my posts several times before I publish them, fixing grammatical errors and rewriting sentences and filling in the holes in the story that may not make sense. But here is this post, not edited to perfection, because pain is the furthest thing from perfect. Thank you all for reading, it means the world to me.