The past couple of months have been a struggle for me, due to several events beyond my control. I’m truly grateful that I’ve landed in a pretty good place in June, but the sadness that overcame my life during large parts of April and May will not just disappear. I’m able to find relief through tons of activity that is close to where I was before the pandemic with friends and family who are willing to connect and spend time with me. The writer’s block is broken, and while I’m still relearning how to focus and write like I used to, I’m getting so many ideas again.
While I’m better and there so much joy and peace with the new things I’m trying out and the people I’m reconnecting with and others I’m meeting for the first time, during pockets of much needed solitude I’m left once again with my fears and my demons. I’ve lost something that I had before the pandemic: an ability to be at peace and happy when I’m alone. I got incredibly adept and comfortable with it during the pandemic and found a lot of peace, but now that I’ve tasted connection and community again, I feel fragile and sad when I’m alone.
I’ve realized over the past few weeks that I can’t bury or distract myself from the sadness in the long run. It feels unpleasant and heavy to sit with the ache and the pain, but I have to. Today’s practice is to be grateful for the sadness, because I get a lot out of it. I get some of my art, there’s passion that comes out of strong emotions, and growth if you allow it. There’s empathy for myself and other folks who are going through a tough time, and it’s a genuine reminder to hold memories of the good times close. It’s also a reminder to deeply enjoy the amazing things I do have, like a nice home, a job, good food and close family and friends. I have leisure.
So today, I am grateful for the sad and all the good and lessons that come with it.
