30 Days of November, Day 28: Of The Past
Today I find myself in nostalgia overload as I think back on my past, especially the recent past. This year has really be a tumultuous one for me and now I can say that I am definitely not the same person I was this time last year. It would be prudent to mention that this is not the first time in my adult life that I have gone through such a change, I can think of three or so, other moments where I could see clearly that I had evolved from one state of being to the next.
It is comforting to know that there are somethings about me that have not changed. I still like hamburgers, tribal music, listening to the waves and creating wearable crafts. I still smile when I hear the Golden Girl theme song and I wiggle 'rhythmically' to a music in my head. It is comforting to still consider black my favorite color, but to be grown up enough to admit that I do like yellow after all.
On the other hand, somethings had changed with such a cataclysmic force that it is a wonder that I am still standing. My heart was bolstered by a love so passionate that it swept me up into the universe and scattered my senses into the cosmos. I had never fallen in love before, so it was new, painfully new.
Everyday was a blooming rose, until it was suddenly, a dried rose with sharp thorns. In between the inevitable demise of new love, was the discovery that there are a million ways to break a heart. There is in fact only one way to mend it, and the words that would mend it can sometimes be so far away that you realize that in order to heal, you have to leave... and start walking.
And walking and walking, until the memory of love is like dust in the distance.
And then when look up, your former love affair is now just a leaf on an autumn breeze; and there are a thousand leaves blowing by and no one notices when that one leaf, that is all your hopes and dreams, hits the ground and disappears in the pile of failed romances.
I tried to be strong to resist the urge to run back to the nothingness that is a dried up brook when you know you are dying from thirst. To resist the out-stretched hand of reconciliation when you know that it is nothing but a mirage in a desert.
To put a life back together, when it didn't really fall apart because you finally realized that when you were in love, you stopped living your life, and lived a half-life. Life had just paused.. and now it was on play again and all you had to remind you of that time in limbo was an empty heart, and empty purse and a tee-shirt.
The past though is just that. It's gone and all that is left to do is focus on today. I try to head the Lord's words, as he said in Matthew 6:34: "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Even so, when today is filled with nostalgia, I remember. There is no use in forcing the memories to go away. It is best to sit, and to acknowledge the past and to learn from it anew; the future is built on a foundation formed by a million mistakes.
It is comforting to know that there are somethings about me that have not changed. I still like hamburgers, tribal music, listening to the waves and creating wearable crafts. I still smile when I hear the Golden Girl theme song and I wiggle 'rhythmically' to a music in my head. It is comforting to still consider black my favorite color, but to be grown up enough to admit that I do like yellow after all.
On the other hand, somethings had changed with such a cataclysmic force that it is a wonder that I am still standing. My heart was bolstered by a love so passionate that it swept me up into the universe and scattered my senses into the cosmos. I had never fallen in love before, so it was new, painfully new.
Everyday was a blooming rose, until it was suddenly, a dried rose with sharp thorns. In between the inevitable demise of new love, was the discovery that there are a million ways to break a heart. There is in fact only one way to mend it, and the words that would mend it can sometimes be so far away that you realize that in order to heal, you have to leave... and start walking.
And walking and walking, until the memory of love is like dust in the distance.
And then when look up, your former love affair is now just a leaf on an autumn breeze; and there are a thousand leaves blowing by and no one notices when that one leaf, that is all your hopes and dreams, hits the ground and disappears in the pile of failed romances.
I tried to be strong to resist the urge to run back to the nothingness that is a dried up brook when you know you are dying from thirst. To resist the out-stretched hand of reconciliation when you know that it is nothing but a mirage in a desert.
To put a life back together, when it didn't really fall apart because you finally realized that when you were in love, you stopped living your life, and lived a half-life. Life had just paused.. and now it was on play again and all you had to remind you of that time in limbo was an empty heart, and empty purse and a tee-shirt.
The past though is just that. It's gone and all that is left to do is focus on today. I try to head the Lord's words, as he said in Matthew 6:34: "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Even so, when today is filled with nostalgia, I remember. There is no use in forcing the memories to go away. It is best to sit, and to acknowledge the past and to learn from it anew; the future is built on a foundation formed by a million mistakes.
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