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Turned A Corner
Hoping to fall back asleep again soon. Haven't been up long. Something's shifted inside. This is good. (Nope, not a baby...such ain't my lot in life.) Friends just brought a new life into the world and're ready willing and able to do right by her and themselves. This is glorious. I'm now sitting here w/tears in my eyes...happiness & vicarious joy tinged w/just the teensiest bit of regret/envy.
Okay. Now the tears're in earnest. Mebbe more than a bit sorrowful that things didn't work out for me along such lines. I do know it's for the best for me/my life. I've accepted it. I live my life how I wouldn't be able to otherwise. Blah blah farkin' blah. I guess I still have regrets. And now's the sorta time they'll surface, when I'm tired, when it's late at night, when there's nobody close to cuddle with but the kittenheads (who know something's up so're clustering close...wise/good kittenheads).
I'm fine. Heh. It's a reminder that things don't always work out as we'd planned or as we like, that we must exercise caution when we dream w/out acting to work to accomplish what we'd like to have happen. It's an exercise in humility. It's a reminder: Don't Dream It, BE It.
That whole grief process. It cycles through, just on longer and longer loops. It reaches a point where you no longer dwell all the time on't, where it only comes up now and again. It tends to arise only on anniversaries, on special occasions, when you're all of a sudden reminded and confront yourself w/the realization of what's not there. So you relive it, briefly, sharply, deeply...then move on again, smiling, accepting, pleased w/life as 'tis rather than how it could've been, b'c that's the way 'tis.
So I grieve, even as I revel in vicarious joy for those who's lives've taken 'em down a path I'd've liked to've walked, but shan't, 'cept vicariously...which is fine, which is right, which is how 'tis, which I hereby once again accept. And I walk away from my grief, strong and happy with and in my own life, making and walking my own path, accepting my way, rerouting as desired and/or required, remembering that I've surrounded myself w/beauty (terrible tho' it may be at times) to which I frequently surrender myself.
Realization: I nurture in other ways. My nurturing's appreciated and needed. As Alexander McCall Smith notes in Tears of the Giraffe, “[W]e can all give something.”
*hugs out* (like a shout out, only w/arms rather than voice)
Okay. Now the tears're in earnest. Mebbe more than a bit sorrowful that things didn't work out for me along such lines. I do know it's for the best for me/my life. I've accepted it. I live my life how I wouldn't be able to otherwise. Blah blah farkin' blah. I guess I still have regrets. And now's the sorta time they'll surface, when I'm tired, when it's late at night, when there's nobody close to cuddle with but the kittenheads (who know something's up so're clustering close...wise/good kittenheads).
I'm fine. Heh. It's a reminder that things don't always work out as we'd planned or as we like, that we must exercise caution when we dream w/out acting to work to accomplish what we'd like to have happen. It's an exercise in humility. It's a reminder: Don't Dream It, BE It.
That whole grief process. It cycles through, just on longer and longer loops. It reaches a point where you no longer dwell all the time on't, where it only comes up now and again. It tends to arise only on anniversaries, on special occasions, when you're all of a sudden reminded and confront yourself w/the realization of what's not there. So you relive it, briefly, sharply, deeply...then move on again, smiling, accepting, pleased w/life as 'tis rather than how it could've been, b'c that's the way 'tis.
So I grieve, even as I revel in vicarious joy for those who's lives've taken 'em down a path I'd've liked to've walked, but shan't, 'cept vicariously...which is fine, which is right, which is how 'tis, which I hereby once again accept. And I walk away from my grief, strong and happy with and in my own life, making and walking my own path, accepting my way, rerouting as desired and/or required, remembering that I've surrounded myself w/beauty (terrible tho' it may be at times) to which I frequently surrender myself.
Realization: I nurture in other ways. My nurturing's appreciated and needed. As Alexander McCall Smith notes in Tears of the Giraffe, “[W]e can all give something.”
*hugs out* (like a shout out, only w/arms rather than voice)