Sometimes I wonder why I constantly choose struggle vs comfort.
I could have had a far easier path than the one I've chosen.
These two statements mean more than I think most realize when applied to my life and such. The rabbit hole goes deep. Seventeen layers as someone once said. Trenches deep as another said. And so on. And so...
I could have been living in Europe for over a decade not worried about bills getting pampered and just working on art having the ground I walk on worshiped, etc but yet I choose to struggle and try to be a mother against forces and called crazy. I could have moved away and had the house and chickens in the back yard and the five bedroom luxury space with tons of closet space for my clothes fixation and even a boob job if I wanted and the cookie dough didn't get me to my target natural state.
I was having this dialogue again for the I forget how many time with dear ones recently. We spoke about how the journey has been for me and how much those two above statements really have shaped my life and been true even with other opportunities present.
I cried so much over the past couple of days. On Saturday last week, it was so bad that I couldn't even talk. I communicated to the other person I met for breakfast via pen, paper, and tears.
While I was with said person, I created this beautiful pairing of photos with whimsy and silliness. I didn't know it at the time either but when I uploaded it I would find a double rainbow to greet me as well. I wanted to live in that sentiment forever. I wanted to live there even more so when I saw what was hiding in that genuine moment of orchestrated color. It's like the world knew and agreed. This is the core of the real me that wants so much to be welcome to live. This tiny piece is where I aspire to live and love with my children. It's been repeatedly denied to me.
I got the most beautiful card on Saturday right before that breakfast meeting. It didn't help the tears to stop. If you click the card in here you can see it. Forewarning: you might be inspired and/or cry as well.
Editors note: the person who sent the card ended up crying too. You really might want to take a look at it for yourself.
There have been many messages like this scattered in the cracks along the way. They are subtle frequently. They are inspiration for the title of a book I want to write if I can ever allow myself to allow myself.
Saturday was otherwise leveling beyond those beautiful images and card. There were drivers joking about something inappropriate who when I stated it was not cool proceeded to start to make deplorable remarks about my sister's death and about things with Jonas. Eventually I went to work only for it to be more of the same luck. It was seemingly one difficult fare request or travel towards nothing but a cancellation and wasted gas after another.
During what would be the eventual last rides of the night I started to get some texts from someone linked to someone from my past. This was enough. It was too far from my double rainbow loved memory earlier. At that point I finally deemed the night to be done and went to spend time with a friend who also had had a rough week filled with not enough money. It was nice for a few minutes just being there away from all of the crap.
Sunday I met with someone and hoped it would go well. It went and got some information. There was some good points to it. There are good points to everything if you think about it. Since drafting this I found and met with someone far more diplomatic and right. I'm thankful for both experiences however as they were both very helpful in their own realms.
Someone sent me a message that halted me again on Sunday. It was comparing my views of being both a diamond and dust to Schrodinger. The theory and sentiment was lovely. Of existing and not existing and holding space and reverence for both. For those not familiar, I highly encourage you to also read more about sir Schrodinger, his famous living and dead cat in a box, and how even Einstein weighed in in a relative way of discourse and commendation.
But this post isn't about commendation or even validation, even though it is a little bit of both to a degree. Every form of writing is this as well as a form of narcissism if there is to be some insight and truism and honesty along with redundancy applied.
I've started drafting this all day throughout all the days Tuesday and Wednesday and now I am still drafting it here on Friday while sipping on mint tea and eating valley sushi burritos.
Today's drives were better than last week but I still didn't get enough done. Last week I wanted so much to work and write but I accomplished little of either.
My chest ached.
My soul ached.
I needed to flush my system.
I needed time to process.
I needed time to decompress.
I've been needing a bit of time with everything that has been happening. I'm thankful for the time even if it's painful. Even if it's been not as full of grace as I would have liked it... from all sides including the sides within me and the ones outside of me..
Today was better. Today was progressive. Today was calm. Today was filled with more tears but it was also filled with coins and small slices of victory.
The next few weeks will be very hard. It's coming closer to the trifecta of birthdays. All three of my boys will have birthdays this coming month. Each one will not be where they should be. It is a thing dreadfully doused in pain and tears.
There is a part of me that is aching for that familiarity.
There is a part of me that is aching for it to be alright.
There is a part of me so sad that there seems to be people fighting against every aspect of happiness.
There is a part of me that wants ever so much for it to be ok to be me I feel is buried and people want dead in a violent way not quite the same but feeling the same as my sister.
I just want to be me and be the mom and be the firecracker intelligent and silly and vibrant and sexy woman I used to feel.
Against all the odds
Against all the naysayers
I have to make this happen.
Perhaps with a little help from some angels it just might be ok.