Welcoming My Self Back

The break is over. I think. I hope. I decided to take a wee break from my writing. I wanted to sort out what I was doing with this blog, and why. I wanted to sort out what I was doing with my book, and why. I wanted to sort out what my plans were for my family history writing ( I know the why for that one). The wee break turned into weeks and now it's been months. I still don't know what I'm doing with all this, nor why. I've missed it, though.

Three things about me, today:

- The break from writing, which is one of my biggest soul-feeders, turned into a break from many other parts of my life. Soon I was back to the person I used to be: not moving enough (literally and figuratively), too much coffee, too many cigarettes, not enough sleep, general grumpiness and dissatisfaction. I wasn't feeding my soul often enough and it was a stretch to find the joy. I somehow chose this, without even realizing it. I don't like this. I can and will change it, fix it, get back to my best spiritual self. I know the things I need to do to make that happen.

- Today is the first day of a new year. I'm not big on resolutions - they are too easily broken. Resolutions for me are a way of living, with the quiet acceptance and gratitude that I will get to where I want to be, where I need to be, if I just keep moving and growing and being open. Today I wrote the dates from last year's calendar into this year's brand new one. As I flipped pages, I came across birthdays for three people in my life who died this year. I struggled with this a lot over the past couple hours. A dear friend, with whom I lost contact for many years, had reconnected with me a couple years ago. She was full of life and laughter and spirituality. She died after a second battle with cancer; one she lost. A colleague was killed in an accident in late June. I can't say we were friends, but there were connections between us - a few days apart in age, knowing people in common outside of work, living in the same small town for awhile (although not at the same time). He loved to laugh, he truly grabbed life by the horns and wrestled it down. My dear almost-life-long friend, who died this past fall after suffering with pain for much of her life. She, too, loved to laugh and could find the funny side to all situations and loved her people fiercely. I am still grieving for these three people, and realized this morning I am grieving silently and alone. I miss them and I can not cry. I want to cry, I need to cry.

- There is a connection between my break and to my unresolved grief, between my lack of self-care & soul-feeding and to my unresolved grief. There is a connection between these three people I've lost, a connection beyond that each knew me, but were unaware of the others. The love of laughter that was such a core part of each of them slaps me in the face as I face my grief and pain and loneliness.

The break is over. I think. I hope. I'm moving on and am now once again holding my people, both dead and alive, close to my heart. I am ready again to hold myself close to my heart. The steps to joy are right in front of me. One step at a time, keep moving, keep growing, keep loving, keep myself open to all the pain and all the joy. One step. This is the first one.