It is my privileged to write to you each week and I hope my blog inspires you to question what is stirring in your heart. I encourage you to lean into your grief. And, to feel it to it's depth. This isn't easy, but it is the only way through this mess.
I believe that we are lead back towards life and living when we allow ourselves to be still, and sit in the "nothingness" where grief lives. Visiting this empty place is difficult, but it is necessary. This quiet place holds the blueprints of our new, changed life.
I know you are scared to go to the edge of this place; admittedly, I am too. But, we have to take a leap of faith. With time, I am gathering momentum, and I am going to leap and build my wings on the way down.
It has been over two years since Mike died and I realize that what I fear most about the future is not the risks and uncertainty. What I am afraid of is letting the opportunities for change pass me by. I am afraid that I will settle into an ordinary life when I want an extraordinary life.
I am worried that I will play small, when my potential is big. As I write to you each week I am challenging us both not to shrink. I am keeping us accountable. I do not want either of us to fall back into an easy comfortableness when we can leap forward, towards a bold life. I want you to manifest the best in yourself. Go on, begin to recreate a beautiful life for yourself.
From the Ledge with Wings in Hand,
Sunday morning I took myself to a diner for breakfast.
It was not easy to go there without him. I’ve done it before, but never on a Sunday, their busiest day. I said “ for one”, and I sat myself at the countertop.
I ordered myself a coffee - for one.
Great tunes were playing.
And, it felt good to be there.
I will admit, I did almost cried on the way there as it’s on the way to Mike’s house. The intersections, the pub, the grocery stores, the drive-in. All of it. It’s all still here, even now that he’s not. To say the drive was filled with emotional landmines is an understatement. But, like all good things, breakfast was worth it. I’m worth it. Mike is glad I came. I can feel it.
I’m sitting in Mike’s spot at the kitchen table.
Wondering how to put my love for this man into words.
As I’m sitting here,
I can’t help but notice that he’s everywhere in this house.
Once upon a time, he sat in this same chair I’m sitting on now.
I notice that my elbow is on the table and I am cupping my cheek in my hand
-exactly like Mike used to do as he sat here, occupying this very same spot.
I remember his wine glass used to be where mine is right now.
There are echoes of him everywhere.