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| 'The Lady of Shalott' - John William Waterhouse |
2014, or the start of it at least, is going to be a year of
acceptance - I can tell already. Sometimes the universe throws things at you
and you can never fully understand why. It's in the asking Why where we drive ourselves mad. I have been reminded of that fact
time and time again, but somehow it's a need that we as humans forget how to
deal with very easily. Loss is the most awful thing we face on this earth
because it feels so un-natural. Like some greater force lied to us. You worked
for it, you deserved it. But then it is stolen. Un-fair, right? You love
someone, they are taken away. Why? You desperately desire something, and it is
held back from you. No rhyme or reason. After trying to blame yourself, your
friends, your family, your community, the wind - all you feel is the injustice
of it all.
Blame is never a satisfying game because it isn't the answer. It
seems there isn't an answer at all. But we do
always have the choice of how we deal with our loss. The thing/person/love
we wanted so badly is taken from us. Gone. It's time to accept that and realize
that the world still has more to offer.
I see my life as a journey on a small riverboat. I started
out on a river that was so great and fast and peaceful and lush and beautiful
that my reality was wrapped up in it. I understood the ebbs and flows of it. It
was all I knew, and all I ever wanted to know. But then, suddenly, I was taken
off the river onto an offshoot. A stream that led in a different direction to
the one I was watching, expecting, enjoying. The currents swirled and the boat
was bumped around and as I stared back desperately at my precious river, I
could not understand why it had been taken away from me. I fought and rowed,
was thrown around, exhausted, suffered and bled. It was cold and dark and terrible.
But hard as I tried, I could never get back up to the main river.
After a long
time, days and nights, ups and downs, the offshoot meandered through enough
dense vegetation that I could not see the greater river anymore. Every glimpse
was gone, even in the remnants of my dreams. I gave up. It was devastating. A
kind of bitter sadness I can't even explain. My gut was hollow. My ears numb. I
mourned that river because it was meant to be mine, right? So much happened on
that river. Everything was so perfect and calm. I thought all my happiness had
been stolen from me in that one, irreversible moment. But after a while, I realized
that if I looked left and right, there were these beautiful flowers all
alongside the new river I had joined up to. And butterflies - massive, bright
butterflies. I had never seen such things before. Such beauty and diversity. It
was all new to me, and I realized that I was facing the wrong way in the boat,
staring backwards into the past, searching an ever-fading horizon for the lost
river, and missing what was around me.
I turned around and looked ahead, only
to find that the new river was just as glorious, just as bright and full of
amazing things as the old one, even having a few new things for me to enjoy
that I had never seen before. I decided to accept it. After all, I was still here. I had time on my
hands, and I still had my oars. I still had my boat, and my boat was here, so I
may as well join it. I thought about my old river still, but only some times
and only because the human mind loves to wonder about things. Perhaps there had
been a waterfall at the end of that river? Perhaps I was better off on the new
one.
Whatever the reason, I accepted and set up camp, as it were,
in my boat. Settled in and made myself comfortable again. Rowing to keep on
course and to miss the few protruding rocks that popped up every now and then, enjoying
the new until it became the normal. I was happily flowing along for a long long
time, and then it happened again.
Just when my sights were set on the future, a
swirl I didn't see coming threw me off course into another unknown. Rapids and
turbid water. But as the wild sting of the unforgiving torrents thrash at my
face, I know it will be OK. I have been in a place like this before. I know
that this time, I will not face the wrong way. I will try not to glance back
too much, but rather look forward. My river has changed paths again, and it's
not my fault or anyone's around me. There is no Why. Why is a stupid question for an experienced off-course boat-person
like myself, after all. Asking 'Why' is only looking backwards, facing the
wrong way, trying to find answers I am not going to get while on this earth.
All I have is faith, hope, trust, and my little boat. And my oars. I know that if
I paddle myself smoothly down this uncomfortable stream, it will once again
lead me to a new river, and I know that it will be OK. It is my new path and I
accept it.
Acceptance can be a beautiful thing, though not easy. It is
like learning a new piece of music on the piano - one that is harder than
before, and the learning curve causes all kinds of frustration. But when I get
past that uncomfortable part, the new learned song is so rewarding, not only for me, but also for those around me who get to enjoy the beauty of the song too as I play it.
Bring on 2014. I am stronger than before and am ready for my
new beautiful river, whatever it may have in store for me. I can do this.
Love, lust and fairy-star-dust
Cherry Blossom
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