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Words (of Hope) from the Well


jeudi
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Soon it will be 15 years. I ask myself, how can that be? knowing full well that I've lived each minute and traveled through it all a step at a time.

 

There is a well of sadness within me. It is an easy thing to access but I never fail to let life interfere. I'm relieved to have a life that is big enough to interfere with any sort of drowning because I never wanted to dive in, merely more to dip a toe. In these tiny immersions I honor him, I dwell and linger and reflect, I accept this condition of my life. If often seems more complicated than it is, bigger than it need be. After all, life is an enormous thing, and this loss of mine is merely one loss, my loved one now a part of the ether, the cosmos, the gestalt, and someday so too will I be.

 

I wonder how the well never empties. No new source, no evaporation, no significant changes over time. Its constancy is a strange comfort. In my dreams sometimes he is here again in half tones. After fifteen years I understand his cloudy presence and I'm tempted to wave my hand through him except that in the world of my dreams I am just as flimsy as he. There is nothing there. Except there is.

 

The well of my sadness lives between my breasts and up into my throat. There are moments when it rises but not from a difference in volume, more like the earth has tilted for a time to give me a taste of what I need or want or can not escape.

 

Love has not been hard to find in other places. I let it in, I let it cover me, let it soothe me. I share it when I can and point it out to anyone who will listen, anyone who doesn't seem to see it in front of them even when they have no idea what I'm talking about. I feel like a tour guide this way. I'm no longer marked by loss, no longer have a gray aura sticking to me like a wet cloak. Instead I feel it vibrating and it allows me an extra hand for reaching out.

 

Sadness, hope and then more. Single steps towards understanding that which is impossible to understand.

 

Judy

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This is so beautiful Jeudi. Thank you far all of it!

This part really resonates with me.

 

The well of my sadness lives between my breasts and up into my throat. There are moments when it rises but not from a difference in volume, more like the earth has tilted for a time to give me a taste of what I need or want or can not escape.

 

Hugs

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