who i was and where i was at that moment was defined by my sadness. it was a heavy blanket pulled over my feet --- it kept me warm, too warm, but when i removed it, it damnedly felt cold. but it, too, was my source of comfort. though it weighed down on me, it provided me boundaries of safety, yet still gave me room to move underneath.
let it be said that my speaking about sadness as a comfort is strange, i don't care. for this time, after all my experiences, i have learned to recognize sadness as merely the momentary absence of joy. sadness is a season of my soul.
i have come to terms with this inevitable season, as i skipped along the path i chose to take. and like before, i have once again embraced it fully, exposing myself to a moment of raw vulnerability. and, just like before, i was certain that as furtively as sadness robbed me of joy, it would pass too, unnoticed.
no questions asked, because simply, there was nothing to be done about it, and nothing was required of me but to open my arms to it as it came.
so now, i shall take on whatever joy i have in its fullness; shall suck on every last drop until i have to concede that there's nothing left in the bottle. this time, i will face this joy with the same resilience as when i welcomed my descent into darkness, with the knowledge that it was necessary to face the worst of my fears and to allow my heart to cry out in despair and helplessness.
though i may not see it yet, there is a promise of light. it is there, has always been. that i can see in the dark: the shadows of loss, the wounds of battered hope, tell me that light is indeed there, though in less familiar form.
yes, this sadness is a comfort. i have gotten over the initial distress brought on by the recognition of defeat. nonetheless, i wallow in it, accepting that i will later on find joy by huddling in my sorrow. bathing in sadness is an act of courage i have carry out, to remember the monsters i have to make peace with inside of me, and to remind me that pain will make me strong enough to sprawl underneath the heat of light.
love is what is left at the end of the day.
From: melbourne, victoria, Australia
About me: i'm a wanderlust and a warrior of life. i have hordes of nomads and soldiers waiting to wander this sometimes barren and sometimes lush landscape of my head. i send them forth. they are my words. my weapon of choice: purple prose
posted by lei at 2:45 PM