He tells me to cheer up, and I say “nay.” Not now. All in due time. This is the time to be deep, to dive into the dark murky waters of the unknown. I’ll leave the shallow shore and sunny skies for those staying back in the same place they were yesterday. Today I’m moving. Changing.
Sure, change is a good thing, a time of great growth and excitement and expansion of inner mind and outer horizons. But it is hard. And it is frightening for it requires we walk to the edge of the plank and step off. That last step is the hardest. So long to the comfort of the ship. But there aren’t always sharks in the waters below. Sometimes, or so I have heard, there are dolphins down there, benevolent and tender and playful.
Change. I’m not going to pretend it’s all OK. It’s not. But I am going to look at it all, even the deep, dark stuff, because that’s part of the big picture too. Shadows lurk strongest on the sunniest of days.
Shall I say it is fine and remain happy and light as I am falling into the abyss? No! Only a fool or coward who touches no further than the surface could feel that way. I’m moving without a job, without long term plans or permanent home, without anything but a big fat debt in my wallet and a lot of burdensome worries on my shoulders, and with a bunch of horses, cats and one very enthusiastic dog. How light shall I pretend that to be?
I let myself fall and dive and sink and gasp for air not knowing when I shall reach the surface again. I choke and sputter and nightmares follow me throughout my day but I would not have it any other way. For after the depths we find light, pure and real, as we again emerge to the radiance of day.
Have you ever seen anything more magnificent than the sun on the surface of a rippling sea, seen from under the surface of frigid waters as you rise to break through in anticipation of one big beautiful breath of air?
How can we touch the highs of happiness without knowing what it’s like to sink deep into depression? Yes, we could strive for the middle ground. You can. I won’t. I’m going to feel it all. Some days soft and smooth; others harsh and gritty. Some days plain old painful. But more often than not, sweet and bordering on bliss, because that’s what I look for in life.
That’s life for me, rich and full. As a friend wrote yesterday: Some of us live life biting into the juicy sweet peach and letting the nectar drip down our chin… because we can.
I’m not one to leave the peach on the shelf, and do no more than observe its beauty and appreciate its fine aroma. No, no, no. I’m biting in.