What I now know is that losses aren’t cataclysmic if they teach the heart and soul their natural cycle of breaking and healing. A real tragedy? That’s the loss of the heart and soul themselves. If you’ve abandoned yourself in the effort to keep anyone or anything else, unlearn that pattern. Live your truth, losses be damned. Just like that, your heart and soul will return home. ~ Martha Beck
Have you abandoned yourself to please someone, to hold onto something, to hold something together? Are you clinging on so tightly to the past, a dead dream or the memory of a loved one that you fear you might fall if you reach out for a new love, a new life? Have disappointment and fear eroded your heart, left your soul fading slowly like a photograph?
If I ever feel the grey gauze of depression drifting around me like fog, like snow settling softly in the night, I do what I can to connect with the vibrant creativity of others so that their energy kickstarts my heart.
Sometimes it’s photography, sometimes poetry. The architecture around me or a well tended garden. Gift shops, galleries, yarn shops or beautifully decorated cafés – anywhere that creativity leaps out and sings to me.
If the darkness descends without warning and I feel myself starting to curl up tight and foetal, I listen to music that wedges my heart open like a foot in the doorway, music that seeps into my soul and unfurls me so that the light can stream back in on the wings of someone else’s words and carry me home…
I listen to songs like this.
What could you do, right now, to live your truth, to beckon your soul home?
*This was a horribly prescient post. I planned to publish it on a timed setting while I was away on a surprise holiday in Greece, my spiritual home, but shortly after my husband booked the bargain last minute flights, we learned that our daughter’s oldest friend was at death’s door. As always, I can’t share details here, but she’s someone we love very much – have done since she was a wee girl, a bright smiling bundle of cheeriness.
A miracle procedure saved her life, and though she’ll have ups and downs, I know she’ll thrive. She feels grateful to be alive, to have the love of a strong and adoring family and is determined to embrace any health challenges life now sends her way. During her time in hospital, all I could do was ‘love, let go and let God’, praying that she’d find her way back home to us all.
I’ll be honest, it’s been an exhausting six months; too much intense emotion and fear and too many hospitals and traumas in any short period take their toll. My holiday was short but gloriously healing and I’m longing to share the photos and memories with you; for now though, I just wanted to tell you that knowing you’re here, reading this, makes my wee blog feel like coming home, however long I’ve been away.