Continuing on our discussion of light and life that comes from the rubble of certain experiences, I had a moment when I realized it wasn’t until things really started to fall apart that I understood there were things that needed to change.  Like, I didn’t know what needed to change until it started to change.  I’ve been working on the ever-evolving process of self-development and embracing who I am so I always thought I had a good grasp on what needed to be done even if I wasn’t doing it perfectly. In looking back there were signs that I wasn’t always on the right track/what I was doing wasn’t working.  I mean, every time I faced a trigger I was aware of, the automatic response was the same as it always had been, the same stories running through my mind all the time.  That should have been a cue that things weren’t working out as I had planned and perhaps needed to try another way.  But then things really took a turn.  Like, I started losing people again.  People around me got sick. Mental health in those I love took a severe decline, my mental health took a decline. I saw a future without specific elements in my life and my heart broke. I felt overwhelmed and lost and confused and alone.  Those moments when there was so much that needed to be done that I didn’t know where to begin, all that overwhelm, I was ready to throw it all away because the pressure felt too great. 

Then I heard this song reminding me that sometimes the answer isn’t throwing it all away, it’s finding the pieces that were hidden behind the façade we built.  Some walls hold up the structure and others hide things, even if we don’t intend for that.  Sometimes we thought we were protecting something and we build a wall we never intended to exist and we end up building an entire life on something that can’t hold up.  When those walls start to fall, when we stand the initial rubble, it feels even more chaotic and lost.  Sure, it feels like we’re losing something and it can be painful, but it wasn’t meant to exist like that in the first place.  Seeing all the underlying cracks and recognizing what had already fallen apart was terrifying because it shone a spotlight on all I knew could still fall apart, on all I could still lose.  I needed to focus on what had potential to be built.  To say that there was a point and a time where it made sense to live a certain way and now it was over didn’t mean that we weren’t supposed to be that way at that time and it doesn’t mean we aren’t supposed to live how we are now.  It doesn’t mean we’ve done anything wrong when we get to a point where we have nowhere else to go but through.  It’s finding the pieces that shine within the rubble.  This house isn’t necessarily falling apart but there is something missing.  The light and the life. 

Seeing what I loved fall apart, my husband’s health, the house with the cracks in the ceiling.  Like every move we make is just taking it closer to breaking brought about every old fear I had about losing the people I love, the same fear I’ve had since I was a child, losing all the people who cared most about me.  I couldn’t think straight–  Maybe this is one of those moments I’ve spoken of where it’s meant to break.  Perhaps this isn’t something I’m meant to fix.  Perhaps all the chaos is just a signal letting us know we need to do something different, that something is at its end even if it didn’t turn out how we wanted it to. The truth is there are certain facets of life that we simply have no control over and not everything turns out how we thought it would.  What we thought was amazing turns out to be crap for lack of a better word.  What once was shiny is dull and cracked, what once held light is now a black hole, sucking our energy trying to bring us with it.  There comes a point where we have to realize that making the outside look pretty doesn’t change a damn thing going on inside and it is falling apart.  If the studs are breaking it doesn’t matter what color you paint the walls.  So when the body is screaming that something doesn’t fit, listen.  If something isn’t working anymore, pay attention.  The things in our lives are meant to fit us and our needs—we aren’t meant to conform.  So find our space in this world, allow what needs to fall apart to do so with dignity and grace and look for the light that comes with it.