I’m caught in a dance. The dance between life and death, hope and despair. Stuck somewhere between belief and disbelief.
Some days I keep it together. I’m strong and full of hope, laughter falling from my lips.
Other days I fall apart on the inside. My emotions escape me, my impatience surprises me. And I’m ridden with guilt.
The cloud of grief quietly consumes me, but I don’t even know it.
I’m a peacemaker. A nine to the tee on the enneagram. I avoid conflict, I run from my inner turmoil. If I’m being honest, I don’t really want to face what’s going on in the inside, and I don’t want to do the hard work of truly processing my grief. I’d rather just keep coasting, and ride along on the silver lining.
I don’t want to be caught in this dance. In the tension of the back and forth; the knowing and not knowing.
I want to be free. Free from this grief; free from this pain; free from it all.
In this life we aren’t guaranteed immunity from pain, or death, or grief. We aren’t immune. But we can survive it. We can be free. We can walk in hope.
We can dance the dance of freedom, with hope in our steps, all we have to do is take the first step.