"... life does not subtract things, it liberates you from them. It makes you lighter so that you can fly higher and reach the fullness."- Facundo Cabral
I sat on my mat and felt my fingertips pulsating against each other as chills ran up and down my spine.
I have been mourning her loss, this former self. Like a deceased loved one, whom I would forever be incomplete without. I have every right to miss her. She was me, and I loved her. How could I not? The words cracked open a stubborn sadness and allowed new breath.
I have not lost her, I have been liberated from her.
But how? When she was so strong and sure. Have I idealized her and built her into more than she was? Maybe her time was finished, her purpose played out, her further growth impossible. She and I could not exist in the same reality. Her destruction cleared the foundation, leaving open space and freedom. Her rubble became my raw material; lowly and humbled, but crackling with massive potential. Can I just not see the magnitude of who I am and who I am becoming from the midst of the aftermath? It is exhausting to start over. I have no blueprints. No step-by-step instructions. I can only begin, scavenge for tools, and create as I go. I've no choice but to heal, and trust, and try, and see what comes anyway, so why not do so with hope, love, inspiration? Why not do so on purpose?
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