The Journey Part 2

I have written 4 or 5 entries this month, trying to seek some clarity or maybe wisdom about how life changes. Honestly, I came up empty-handed. For some of us, we really want to know the "why" and "what" about life. Why do things happen? Why do people do what they do? What is life all about? What is the purpose? Philosophers have been debating these questions since the dawn of conscious thought and still haven't settled on the answer. I decided to cut myself a little slack on not finding the solution in just a couple of hours of writing. 

Dealing with tragedy and loss tends to make me want to answer these "what' and "why" questions. Events can make it easy to start questioning all sorts of things about life, love, choices, and relationships. In some cases, tragedy and loss can bring us together and show a softer, kinder moment of humanity. In other cases, these situations evoke emotions of confusion and anger. The never-ending questions about what could have been or should have been, start to torment a sad heart. I suppose I could say this is part of the human experience, and learning to work through it is what we have to do. 

Years ago, in early recovery, I learned about this concept of "Radical Acceptance." I think, if recovery has taught me anything, acceptance is one of these foundation "things" in life. The analogy I always loved....."You are digging a hole if you can't come to some terms of acceptance. You get so busy digging that hole, you forget to stop for a second and look up to see that there is a way out. You just keep digging and digging, hoping to find the exit out." Acceptance isn't easy. Things in life are not fair, and they shouldn't be the way they are. Accepting, at times, can feel like I am just giving up. No, I don't want things to be a certain way. Screw your acceptance; I am mad. What I have gained over time is the knowledge that acceptance does not mean that I like it or that I want it. Whatever "it" may be. And, acceptance cannot be gained in 10 minutes. It's a process of give and take. In fact, there are still days when I get mad that I can't drink. I head back to step one...."We admitted that we were powerless over alcohol, and our lives have become unmanageable." Ten plus years in recovery, and I still have to remind myself even though I clearly know/understand what alcohol has cost me and the world around me.

In these moments, I seek my Higher Power. Each time I have asked questions about why I often times hear nothing. I also believe that things happen for a reason. So maybe I wasn't asking the correct question. Or maybe the silence is a reminder that some answers are too complicated for a one-word question. If I were to receive an answer, would everything change? Would I feel better about everything and be able to accept it "as is"? Is asking "why" a desperate attempt to relieve feelings of despair, as if knowing that answer would make it all better somehow? Is asking "why" my coping mechanism to deal with confusion, anger, sadness, and regret? Again, if I knew the answer, would I still feel the same way? Maybe, maybe not. 

I pray and meditate often to the people I know who have died. I believe in life after death in some form or another. I feel their presence. I see them in my dreams. Every person that I have seen or felt sends me a clear message that they are OK. Two years after my Dad died, he appeared in my dream. I was a little kid again, sitting on his lap. All curled up, in his arms, he said, "I'm OK now." I woke up and immediately tried to go back to sleep. I wanted more; however, in that moment, it was what I needed. A few months after RC (friend from HS passed), he visited me in a dream. I had such regrets about my last conversation with him and some decisions I had made. He wouldn't let me say anything. "Stop worrying." He laughed and faded away. His laughter was a sign that he was teasing me for thinking we weren't still friends. He was straight with me back then. He was straight with me in that moment. He didn't want to hear it because we were good. I never got any answers as to "why." I got to know something way better: They are OK. Acceptance came easier then, but it is still not absolute.

I am remembering tonight some important things. It is OK to be sad. It's OK to cry. It's OK not to be OK with the way things are at this moment. It's OK to lean on others. It's OK to be mad. The goal is not to become consumed by it all and stop being. We will get through these times together with family and friends. The memories of those gone will remain alive through our memories and stories. Their love and passions will be pass on through us. The broken heart never fully mends. Each of our hearts has small wounds that will never heal. We need to regularly tend to those wounds by honoring innumerable memories and fostering the flames of their passions in others.  

Take good care of each other, today and always.
Love,
​Julie