A Gentle Sadness

*First of all, I would like to apologize to my readers for having been gone so long. It wasn’t my intention; I have been healing and processing so much, I didn’t have the energy to write.*

 

I have come to accept that there is an undercurrent of sadness that gently flows beneath everything that I do. It is there, every morning when I wake up. It is there, every night when I crawl into bed. It’s no longer a rage or maelstrom of emotion that feels like it will swallow me whole. It is a ripple, a gentle sadness that I have begun to make peace with, accept, and make room for in my heart.

In the beginning, I had no control over my rage, hurt, and sadness. The emotions would hit me so hard that sometimes, I would fall to the floor, completely debilitated and unable to function. It wasn’t healthy or reasonable to let my feelings take control like they were. I was missing work, crying in the bathroom, staying in bed until three in the afternoon. I wasn’t functioning; by any means. After a time, I began to block the intensity of the emotions simply as a means of survival. I moved into a state of self-preservation and put up walls made of steel. And all of these things were happening subconsciously; it amazes me that my brain knew what to do in order to help protect me and keep me going.

And now, it would seem that I am stronger than I ever have been. The emotions are back, but they are manageable, and I am in control. I no longer have to block them. I have opened up a door to my heart and I am welcoming them in. What I have noticed is that the emotions are no longer a tidal wave sweeping me off of my feet. They are calm and somehow soothing; like a deep and loving hug. I used to be terrified of feeling anything at all; happiness, sadness, despair, it didn’t matter (I have never feared anger. Anger has always been easy for me). I have come to accept this gentle sadness like an old friend. Something that will be by my side, accompany me, and hold my hand.

As I continue to navigate this path in front of me called grief.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

-Rumi
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