Move Closer

Move closer to those things that threaten to undermine your joy; the pain is less intense.  It is the fear in life that barriers the agonizing spirit.

Sorrow is inevitable, from loss, from gain, from the waiting in between.  It is easy to say learn from this, but ever so hard to do, with a broken heart.  I often wonder, is it simply avoidance that allows some people to move through great suffering with grace?

I feel every single ounce of my sorrow. I embrace the beauty of knowing I have experienced something that deeply and do not regret a moment, beyond those lost forever.

Gratitude is not something I overlook in sadness. I think gratitude is the source of great sadness; without it, I would not concede the loss, much like light only is, because of dark.

Moving beyond the self-absorption of such things into joy again is what is arduous.

Requiring presence, of mind, body and spirit. Will is not an option. I have to participate actively in the recovery of my joy.

I retreat into myself when I struggle through great sorrow. I am a thinker. Writing helps me to ease the ache of disclarity and accept that I do not, or may not, understand, yet must find joy nonetheless.

I will be tasked again with sorrow, the kind that reaches into your heart and burns.  So, I will weep and with each tear, I recover grace, just a little, and I am grateful and better for having known such darkness.

I learn from everyone in my life, some more than others. I soften each hour I exist in the company of others. I have witnessed grace, in a gentle smile, a shared laugh, a moment of insecurity, and the trust of a friendship so very perfect.

In my hours of sorrow yet to come and those long past, I quietly smile and count my blessings for of all the beautiful dings in my armor.


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