and found my strength again…

Yesterday, I sat in the grocery store parking lot and cried.

I cried because of exhaustion, I cried because everything felt so heavy, I cried because I really didn’t know how to go forward.

I felt conflict upon conflict internally, and it was weighing me down.

I teach acceptance that your soul cycles in and out of phases of light and dark.

Yesterday, the darkness had her way with me.

I write this today because, after a good night of rest (thank you), I’m able to reflect not from a wounded place, but a healthy place of understanding. 

I wish I could show you,

when you are lonely or in darkness,

the astonishing light of your own being.

Hafiz

I tend to forget, in the moments of darkness, is the core of light (God) that—in the end—does prevail.

Here’s my story. 

After my son was born, my strongest self was also born. 

Yet, it was in my weakest state that I found my strength.

My strength came forth from being cut open, zero sleep while keeping a newborn loved, and most of all:

all the things that I used to cope with the pain were no longer available to me.

I couldn’t move well, I couldn’t think clearly or mindfully, and I certainly couldn’t run away (or even take a walk) from my present moment.

I am not an addict. But, in some ways, I think we are all addicted to escaping our struggles.

Scrolling on our phones, ranting status updates, excessive exercise or dieting,  mindless shopping, or even that extra glass of wine. These are all ways we cope with the pain that we want to avoid.

Yesterday, as I cried in the parking lot, I realized I was too exhausted to escape. 

Thank you, exhaustion, for being my medicine to remind me of my path to acceptance. 

I had to buckle my baby in, buckle myself in, and stay still enough to cry.

I write this to remind you:

there is a light in your own being that sometimes needs to be polished off with tears.

There aren’t many people (actually I know of none) who don’t feel sad or dark from time to time.

Yet, there are a lot of people who stay silent because it’s too taboo to admit.

Sadness is often seen as weakness or ungratefulness in our society. Yet, sadness is something we all go through.

The contradictions of life’s many feelings cause confusion and silence.

We are literally losing our people because we stay silent or avoid our pain through numbing activities.

I’m here to claim:

admitting and embodying and releasing my pain makes me a stronger woman.

I know and trust that the next time I sit in a parking lot to cry, I will be even stronger on the other side. That knowing, which ultimately is my faith, feels like true empowerment.

Dear creative one, what is this season of your life illuminating for you? How do you feel like internal conflict is making you stronger?

Tell me about it, I want to know.

Embrace,

R o s e 

There’s been incredible loss in my community lately, and in the world at large.
If you or anyone you know is dealing with the darkness in a way that seens unbearable, please seek help. Here’s a number to call if you need more information.