The fearless are merely fearless. People who act in spite of fear are truly brave (James A. Lafond-Lewis)
I must be really brave because I’m scared shitless and I’m forging ahead anyway. Onward into the tomorrows even as I second guess myself. Is there a choice? What happens to people who can’t hold their breath and jump? Change is terrifying but you can’t stand on the edge of tomorrow forever.
I keep telling myself that the worst thing has already happened, that nothing can scare me anymore, but I’m a liar. I know strength is not built on a foundation of uncertainty and I am certainly uncertain about a lot of things right now but I have to leap regardless. I’m proud of myself for being brave enough to accept the things I cannot change, but I am still a reluctant adventurer.
I’m having to be ruthless with my past, selective about what gets to accompany me on the next leg of my journey. As I weeded through old photographs last night I realized that even my heartaches are being purged. My new loss has claimed so much real estate in my heart other losses have had to move aside to make room for it. Old pictures of my parents didn’t garner the same reaction as they did years ago, I found myself loving them with joy in my heart. Images of our children growing up made me feel wistful but not unhappy. It was photos of him that were cause to pause.
I don’t know how to be brave without him, he was my safety net – he always had my back, his was the shoulder I leaned on. I did adventurous things because he gave me confidence. He was fearless and I was brave because he was. Now an adventure has been flung upon me and I have no net, no shoulder and I’m afraid.
I’m thankful for the photos, for the reminders of the places his adventures took us and the wonderful things his fearlessness inspired me to do. I’m thankful I found my brave when I was with him. But thankfulness doesn’t overshadow the pain in my chest, it seems to magnify it. I feel lonely to my bones.
I am not fearless, I am fearful but I still have to act. I need to weed, select, purge and ponder all the things of my life – perhaps after all the weeding and purging and selecting and pondering I will be able to piece together my ‘brave’. Maybe my ‘brave’ can be found in the memory of being brave. Maybe his fearlessness lives in those memories too, if I can find that then maybe….
Comments (8)
I must say I did enjoy looking at you pictures at your place last weekend. But I do know when moving you must make changes to fit your new place. I scanned all my pictures and bought a electronic picture frame so I can still see all my pictures but not take all the space they use to need.
Donna, that’s a good idea. Thanks.
This purging piece touches my inner being.
Yet my circumstance have evolved in a different way .
At present I am “decluttering ” my many former lives prior to my widowhood .
David was my second husband , my soul mate and the true love of my life.
A second marriage certainly brings with it a different perspective especially when the sons of my first marriage are so heart-breakingly precious to me.
However your words speak the truths that I am finding hard to disclose.
Thank you.
Ruth – purging is tough, especially when you are getting rid of things forever… I am thankful for so many special memories… as I imagine you are – we get to keep all those even as we clear out the stuff. Good luck with your de-cluttering.
I’m purging too- started much later than you with my own stuff. I have come into the other room where I have been working through a filing cabinet. David’s personal stuff gathered together rapidly ( and not thoroughly I’ve found) on the request of his family when I returned his ashes to this homeland. David has been gone now for 2 and a bit years ( I think). Actually I don’t “think” how long it’s been. The year eludes me and that is fine. I just don’t care to put much store by the time that has passed since he went out of my life. David’s long illness(es) seemed to have drained me and I’m still recovering. As I’m filing I’m finding evidence of the events we did together: the friends we enjoyed together, the thank you cards for our hospitality, the old slips from donations to charities that I forgot to add to the income tax return so many years ago. Ah well, too late now. We were so involved with life then , so energetic and fast paced for a while. it was all so much fun. I’m can reliving those times with bitter sweet nostalgia. I wonder too, like you, if I will ever be brave again after such a crashing blow. People see me being busy. I look industrious as if I’m organising my life so appear focussed but it’s all a sham. The point has gone away. Perhaps that should read, the point of sharing and building has gone away? Rebuilding is somewhere in the future. Now it’s more casting away the earlier building blocks of that previous existence without much recognition of a new future. Yet. Thank you once again for your thoughts. It gives me great comfort to know that I’m not the only one who is silently living in this space.
Ruth – The purging is hard – all the items inspire memories. It’s heartbreaking and cathartic in the same breath. We had a good run, it just wasn’t long enough. I get the feeling you feel the same.
I have written another “misery” piece to you. My purging is taking more time than yours I suspect.
Please forgive me. for burdening you yet again with my complaints.
I wrote it in one of those waves one experiences from time to time
Please purge it from your blog and roll up your eyes into your head .
Ruth – it does my heart good when people share their stories with me.