My mentor, Wayne, continued to be guide today. Explaining that everyone in ‘this play called your life’ (as he calls it), turns up for a reason and then leaves it. For the good parts and the sad parts. To bring you love and joy and to teach you life’s lessons. That everything happens in a specific order for a reason.
And his words resonated around the car as he said..
“All of your tears cannot and will not wash out one word of it. This is your past.”
For the tears have been falling. I thought they would fall as the close friends I have been able to see, held me. But I have been surprisingly together when in company.
It is when I am alone.
When I stand in the rainfall shower and as the warm water flows, so do my tears. But no one can see, tear drops and water droplets, I am alone.
When I am in the car, a song on my playlist, a choke will erupt, like a guttural animal. But no one can hear, I am alone.
When I am in my bed under the duvet, the darkness engulfing my soul, the pictures in my mind, the fears of my fate, the weight of the decisions, the crushing of my heart, the pain in my chest making me sob. But no one can see. I am alone.
When I am practicing yoga, breathing in to the tension, allowing the heat of the 40 degrees to warm and relax, clearing my head, the solitary tear from each eye mistaken for sweat. And no one can see, I am at the back. I am alone.
The tears will not wash it away, but it is release. A recognition of the past, the present and the lost future.
I remain strong.
I am strong.
And tomorrow I will be stronger; I managed to eat. Giant Buttons to the rescue.