Where We Are

Gazing out at this beautiful span of land and sea, something diverted my attention.  As I followed my line of vision moving away from the land, I noticed a lone figure rowing purposefully, yet without exact direction.  He seemed to move further and further along into the depths of his own self-induced solitude, no fear, only the innate need to be driven by the power of his own strength.  In the midst of nothing but ocean, air and breath, this individual seemed unburdened by the the unknowns of what might lurk beneath, around or above.  His buoyancy was only temporarily jostled by the rolling movement of the waves, coaxing his board to propel slowly, while he gently allowed himself to be carried forward.    His only intention seemed to be in exploring what is.   As he completed his journey, I watched as he began to re-approach the beach.  I eventually lost sight of this lone soul, but somehow I felt confident that he would end up reconnecting with the rest of the world, in his own time, but ready to face life.

Grief is like that.  We leave the knowledge of what we once knew as safe and understood, only to be carried into the direction of a "new normal".  Sometimes, the seas are scary and we try our hardest to fight against the changing directions.  Other times, we accept our soul's need for solitude, and we honor our own need to drift away from the land, for a while.  The truth is that once we have taken the journey, our lives will never again be the same, yet our strength will move us forward if we allow it to.  We must spend some time focusing on what is, because there is nothing else.  We are not where we used to be and we are not yet where we will be.  We are where we are and life is what it is.  We must trust that there will come a time when we will feel grounded, once again, but until that time, we must trust the things we cannot see.  For me, those things are God, the deep love of my husband and daughters, old friends who are more like family, the knowledge that I am a strong woman, and the open hearts and compassionate thoughts and prayers of so many whom I have never even met in person.  Those are the things, which I cannot always see that are like a surfboard keeping me afloat when I am not sure what is below or around or above.  Those are the things which keep me strong, as I am carried along this uncertain pathway from shore to shore.

May life be as gentle as possible, as you make your way through this ever-changing world.