15 Quotes on Grieving

Two years ago this month I shared nine quotes I liked that had to do with grief.

I had felt grief, but it was naive grief, I believe. On the periphery, if you will. Before I had lost one of the most important people I will ever have in my life.

The quotes I shared before are fine. Good, actually. I mean, anything Elizabeth Kubler-Ross has said is excellent.

But there are several more that have touched my heart since my husband died, that truly resonate. That I have found and shared randomly but wanted to compile  and elaborate on.

For me specifically, my children have "mom's sad" radar and get very concerned and want to make it better. It's sweet, but also a little stifling in that it makes me feel like I can't fully openly grieve around them.

10 Things I Don't Do Anymore

I used to complete one load of laundry at a time. From sort to wash and dry, to fold and put away. I didn't start another one unless I fully intended to finish it.

And then I discovered how easy it is to let clean clothes sit in the basket. Until tomorrow. Or the next day. Or even until I need the basket again. Because sometimes, someone needs some clean clothes, but then shit happens and they don't get put away.

It's called prioritizing! There are more important things, you know?

The other day I was eyeing two baskets of clean clothes in my and Hubs' closet. One his, the other mine.

I thought, I should get that stuff put away. I even started to do it.

But then I dropped the shirt I was about to hang up and thought, you know what? Screw this. I don't need to do it right now.

Why Am I Still Blogging?

Five years ago today I set up a Blogger account, created a blog I cleverly titled "Just Jennifer" and wrote my very first post.

I had no idea what I was doing. I had no clue about blogging, the "blogoshere", the hops, link-ups, memes, community or Twitter. I remained clueless for the entire first year. I didn't even think anyone besides my mom and my bestie would ever read it. I thought blogging was merely an online form of journaling.

(Why I thought that I don't know. Why write online if you don't want people to read it?)

Over the course of the next four years, however, my little bloggy mind expanded and things evolved into what you see now.

It's been very organic and Zen, for the most part. I mean, I'm not dumb, I have learned a little about SEO and social media engagement, thinking up clever post titles and how to create pinnable images in order to maybe have my writing read by a few other people than my mom and bestie.

There's the rub. I realized I wanted to be read by others. Potentially by lots of others. In getting to know other bloggers, their niches and whathaveyous, I discovered that I have a unique, and maybe even interesting, perspective on life.

41 Things I've Learned in 41 Years

Today is my 41st birthday.

I didn't !! that sentence because, meh. Forty-one just isn't sexy.

Although, I have a friend who thinks it's the bee's knees. She's not here yet and is hoping to have life a lot more figured out by 41.

I told her I think maybe I have it at least half figured out. Also, that some of us are late bloomers. I say that because I think I should have learned more by now. Slowly but surely...

You wanna know what I've learned in my 41 years? Here ya go!

Because of Love

My dad, for all his inherent manliness, is really a big softy.

There are many things he's taught me during my life, like:

• How to ride a bike
• How to cook the basics
• Work before play (but DO play)
• Love of music
• Responsibility

There have been lots of pearls of wisdom and advice given over the years (some that I took in and others I didn't, for better or worse), but the thing that sticks out the most in my mind right now, is actually something we talked about very recently.

Life is Too Short

Life is too short for....

Beating your head up against the wall, never to accept the things you can't change.

That last phrase obviously refers to the serenity prayer:

I live by it. I have a small printout of it in a cheap blue frame on my bathroom wall.

The View From Here: Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Kayso, this week's View will be perfect after the heaviness I posted yesterday.

Because I snagged the one and only Darcy Perdu of So Then Stories!

The name is fake, but her funny writing is so NOT.

She has been selected as a BlogHer Voice of the Year the past two years, as well as

1st place in the National Society of Newspaper Columnists in the blog category.

Here ya go!

__________

Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff – In Fact, Don’t Sweat

  

So then…Jennifer Hall of Dancing in the Rain invites me to guest post for her series The View From Here where writers share their “unique perspective on life”.

My immediate thought is, “Holy Cow! Does Jennifer’s website have enough ROOM to print my voluminous LIFE philosophy? I could go on for 47 HOURS on this topic!”

The View From Here: Battle Scars

This week I bring you Suheiry's View.

It's pronounced "sue-Hay-dee". It's Spanish.

She is a Freelance Writer and Lifestyle Blogger with degrees in English and Fashion Design.

Suheiry like's pretty things, but she talks here about something not so pretty: scars.

__________

Battle Scars

I have a 20-year old scar on my left knee that looks like a blurred map of the world. When I was 10 years old, I fell while jumping rope. I remember getting up, blood dripping down my knees, and walking back home. I remember my mother's anger, which I now realize masked the initial panic of seeing your child covered in blood. I remember her cleaning up my wounds and then telling me I couldn't go back outside. I remember crying and begging to go back outside. It was still early, and I felt fine.

Being a Grown-Up

My eight year old son has asked, "What's it like to be a grown-up?", of me a couple of times recently.

I think he's asked more than once because he's not satisfied with my answers.

Because, how do you describe it? More specifically, how do you describe it without sounding a little embittered?

I said to AJ:

• Adults have to make money, clean and cook and pay bills
• We have to take care of kids
• Grown-ups have LOTS of responsibilities
• But, we don't have to live with our parents anymore
• Don't have to ask for permission to do or have things
• Can stay up as late as we want and eat whatever we want

But when I think more about it, I could also say:

• Adults who are married, and especially married with children, DO have to ask for permission to do or have things, or we just don't bother to ask because we put our kids' needs ahead of our own
• As you get older you find that you don't want to, or shouldn't, stay up real late or you'll be so tired the next day
• Also as you get older, it is not a good idea to eat whatever you want because your metabolism slows down and you'll get fat, not to mention things like cholesterol and high blood pressure

Further, the most unexpected part of being a grown-up is that I didn't even feel like an actual adult grown-up until I turned 30.

Even though I was married at 24 and became a mom at 26, I still felt like I was 18, maybe 21 at the most.

Before moving back to Washington, we lived in the San Francisco Bay Area. A defining moment in my life was a short encounter I had with a teenager on a BART platform. I was waiting there for my train with my baby in her stroller. This kid walks up to me and asks, "Do you have the time, ma'am?"

I told him the time, he said thanks and walked away. As I watched him go back to his friends, it hit me that they don't see me as one of them. Not even remotely.

I wasn't a kid anymore.

As impressionable of a moment that was, I still didn't feel like I was that far removed from them. Sure, I was a little older, married with a child and a job and bills and all that, but I was still only in my 20s and kind of felt like I was just playing house.

They -- I mean "they" -- say that 30, 40, 50....are milestone years. You change and grow around these ages. It's totally true.

Thirty came and I was all, "I am officially an adult now." No two ways about it and no turning back. I honestly didn't know if I was happy or sad that I had reached that place in my life.

Ten years later, as I approach 40, I am, for the most part, happy about it.

My 30s have taught me A LOT, and I expect my 40s will too.

What I should probably say to my son about being a grown-up is that....it's a journey. A winding, twisty, sometimes uphill path through experiences, emotions and lessons. Often adulthood is mundane, but sometimes it's exciting. It is also surprising. And if you stay open to whatever life throws at you, the more you will get out of it and enjoy it.

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!


*I wrote this to finish the sentence: "The most unexpected part of being a grown-up is...", thought up by Left Brain Buddha for Finish the Sentence Friday.

Approval

I have this one friend who is the tough love type. She's not big on giving compliments or praise and it triggers feelings in me. She's not doing anything wrong, per se. It's not her responsibility to make me feel good about myself. Heaping praise on people just isn't in her nature. But I think that's why I seek it from her so much. Like, if she approves, then I'm golden. So when she doesn't give it to me (having no idea that's what I'm seeking), I get insecure, over think things and end up picking a fight with her.

It's so stupid. But I see what's been going on now. Since the light bulb moment I had over this issue, I have been working on learning that I don't need to seek ANYONE'S approval.

Actually, saying that I've been "working" on it isn't even accurate. It's more like I just stopped. A switch was flipped. I went from insecure mess to whatevs, it's all good.

Anger helped. I got angry. I stomped my foot and said enough is freaking enough, Jennifer. You are about to turn 39 years old (this all happened near to my birthday) and you're still seeking approval from others?

No one is perfect. You aren't. I'm not. None of us is going to do life perfectly. We're all going to screw up, fall down, overlook something, hurt someone's feelings.....maybe even do a stint in a mental institution.

That's OK. The moment I realized that I should not be placing anyone upon a pedestal, is the moment I was able to let go of my insecurities over my friendships. Further, to TRUST in those I call friends. To trust that, while not perfect, they are not out to hurt me.

Not only that, but I am awesome and people should love me.

That's right, I said it.

I am a good person who holds her head up under some pretty weighty issues. I am kind and compassionate. I am fair and give the benefit of the doubt. I have a great sense of humor and I think positively. I'm a good mom and wife and I think I do this blogging thing pretty well. I have talents and thoughts, ideas and opinions to offer. I don't judge things I don't know. I live in the moment, breathe in beauty and am grateful.

I have a disability. I can't drive and have a hard time telling black from navy blue. This might be an inconvenience, but it sure as hell isn't something anyone should hold against me. It's not something I can change about myself. It just is. If anyone does count it as a reason not to like me, I probably don't want them in my life anyway.

It's not that I'll never feel vulnerable again or never need another's advice or support. It's not as if I suddenly have all the answers.

But now -- finally -- *I* like me. *I* am proud of me. *I* approve of me.

and Pour Your Heart Out

Drawing a Line at 39

I am beginning the final year of my 30s and I am drawing a line in the proverbial sand.

I often characterize my daughter as "slowly but surely". I'm beginning to think the same of myself.

Because I think I should be past many of the "issues" I have by now. Certainly by the time I turn 40 next year.

But then again, I am who I am, shaped by my experiences, and I am where I am, regardless of any self-imposed (or someone else's) timeline.

Who gets to define where I am in my life at what age?

There's a song I love by Sara Bareilles. Perhaps you've heard it. A lyric in the chorus goes, "Who died and made you king of anything?".

And there lies the rub. I don't have to apologize for anything about myself. But I do have some things I would like to be different by my next birthday.

I am sick and goddamn tired of feeling like I need someone else's approval in order to feel good about myself!

That's the biggest thing.

I want to stop doubting that people love me and want to be in my life, warts and all.

It seems that being different than others, and having had a few "fair weather friends", makes you wary. You think, "it would be much easier to have someone 'normal' for a friend. Why do they stick with me?"

Doesn't matter why. Trust it.

Whoa.

I am going to keep working on healing my wounded inner child. And then let it go.

Over the next year I am going to keep working on making myself healthier, mentally and physically, so that by the time I turn 40, I can be proud of it.

And all the big, scary things there are to face?

I am resolved to being confident in the courage I am somehow always able to draw on. It's like, down in my gut. I feel it there. Like armor.

I can do this.

_______
I feel so sure of these things I've written just now. But I must admit, there is still this tiny little voice saying, "I can do this......I hope." But HOPE is my word for this year, so.....there we are.

Linked with Pour Your Heart Out.

Feelings

I am a massive mess of feelings. Not only feelings I currently have, but feelings I've had all my life, whether I could recognize them or not.

I hate my feelings. I resent how easily they are hurt.

Must be why I have a tendency to try to ignore them.

Just like anything you try to ignore, however, they keep coming back, pestering me like a little toddler who wants a piece of candy.

I think I need to name the feelings that continue to plague me. Flesh them out. Hoping that exposing them to the light will cause them to shrink. Take away their power over me.

I feel....

Weak.

Meek.

Alone.

Insecure.

Hindered.

Lost.

AFRAID.

Overlooked.

Raw.

VULNERABLE.

Bitter.

Unimportant.

Guilty.

Stupid.

Sorry.

I emphasize AFRAID and VULNERABLE because I have truly had some scary ass shit happen to me. Of course I'm afraid! I feel vulnerable that more scary shit is going to happen. That scary shit will always happen. And vulnerable to being left alone and sad, and hurt.

I am desperately trying to push my way through these feelings. Trying to do it all by myself because another thing I feel is like I can't talk to anyone about them. No one who I'm not paying to listen. Or it's that there are certain feelings I shouldn't talk to certain people about.

Honestly, none of MY feelings are anyone else's problem, are they?

I lean on my husband a little, but I keep thinking about how he might not be there to lean on one day, so I pull away, even from him. And I know I am going through all of this now, in preparation.

I am overwhelmed by these emotions, tears waiting for any little excuse to spring forth.

How long will it be before the floodgates that have been opened close?

I feel weak and meek, but therapy, and facing one's inner demons, is most definitely not for the faint of heart.

Trying to have patience with the process. I remind myself that I will be made stronger as I learn how to change how I perceive my feelings.

_______
I understand if this post doesn't make much sense to anyone. It doesn't have to, and nobody needs to feel like they should try to make it better. These are just things I feel, that influence my moods, that I struggle with.

“Love is more than simply being open to experiencing the anguish of another person's suffering. It is the willingness to live with the helpless knowing that we can do nothing to save the other from his pain." - Sheldon Kopp


Life goes on....

Linked with Pour Your Heart Out.

I Am More

Over the last several weeks I have written and published some pretty heavy and/or meaningful posts.

Each one serves to take whatever weight the subject matter was placing on me off, or at least lift it for a time.

But I have to admit, I'm so tired of the heaviness right about now. Tired of feeling so serious all the time.

Tired of my issues. My circumstances. My anxiety.

Tired.

That is not all there is to me, to being me. I am so much more than my husband's health problems, my anxieties or my bad eyes.

I am a mom of two great kids whom I love with everything in me. They are the lights of my life. They can be very annoying and difficult, but they make everything better. They give me reason and purpose, strength and resilience, laughter and hope. It is my greatest joy to be their mother.

I am a daughter who loves her parents very much. I hate the distance (two states) between my mom and I, but am so grateful to have my dad close. Close geographically and in my heart.

I am the kind of friend who feels like her girlfriends are the sisters she never had. I would do anything I could for them. Sometimes it bothers me and hurts my heart so much that I am limited in what I can and can't do for others.

I am a wife with a fantastic husband! Our marriage is made up of so much more than our struggles. We will be married 15 years this July and I am very proud of that. So grateful that we will be able to celebrate that day, that milestone. He makes me crazy some days, but to say I am "thankful" Mark is still on this earth with me is a gross understatement.

I am so much more than my fears and anxieties. I am able to see the beauty around me, find joy in the littlest of things. I feel with my whole heart, even for total strangers I hear about on TV or read about on a blog. I have hobbies, watch TV, see movies, listen to music. I covet comfort.

I am proud of myself for doing the work I need to do on myself. So I can be the best version of me possible.

But it's hard work and I know I will need to write about it more. Even if I think I don't want to. Which is how I feel right now.

I just don't want to be seen as someone who is constantly struggling, always heavy and burdened. Because that's only part of my truth, not my WHOLE truth.

I am becoming more.

Strength and Fragility

On most things I am a middle of the road kind of gal. I see shades of grey where others see only black and white. I am uncomfortable with extremes.

Yet there is something I have noticed about myself. Something that was, and still is, somewhat confusing and distressing to me.

How can I have the strength it takes to walk the path I am with my husband and his poor health, and also feel so very fragile, insecure and vulnerable?

You know, I grew up in the talk show era, with Phil Donahue and Sally Jesse and Oprah. And now we have Dr. Phil. I bow at the altar of Oprah and her "live your best life" and "light bulb moment" mantras. I am not unaware of the idea of an inner child.

For some reason, though, I didn't really think I had one of my own. I naively thought events from my childhood hadn't been that big of a deal, hadn't effected the adult I've grown into.

But there are these triggers....and a pattern....and when you sit down with someone trained to see them and how they pertain to the bigger picture, you can see them too.

My therapist can so easily point it all out, like I should have known all along where most of my insecurities have come from. And when I think I'm pretty sure I know where they're coming from now? My fear of ending up totally alone? He says no, not really.

Yes to FEAR, but it's my wounded inner child that feels the brunt of it all. This is why I can have both the strength I need for Mark, but still feel insecure and vulnerable in other areas of my life. There is a separation between your adult ego and your child ego.

Yeah yeah, I'm psychoanalyzing quite a bit here. I find it fascinating. Especially about myself! That I still have so much to learn about myself at my age is amazing to me.

The most surprising thing I've learned this week is that I, Miss-Open-Book-Wears-Her-Heart-On-Her-Sleeve-Blog-It-Out-for-the-Whole-World-To-See-Give-the-Benefit-of-the-Doubt, have some trust issues.

I can rationalize till the cows come home that there's nothing to worry about. But feelings are not rational. They are your feelings and you will have them whether you want to or not.

The problem lies in when your feelings lead to irrational THOUGHTS. This is a huge issue for me. I have the ability to bury myself in irrational thoughts. Everything from having a sudden flash of one of my children being gravely injured, to being told Mark is dead, to losing my friends. Those thoughts feel like a sucker punch to the gut. I can literally lose my breath for a moment and immediately feel tears stinging my eyes.

But none of those things happened. I believe we call this anxiety, kids.

So yeah, I'm apparently a huge mess of a person. But on the other hand I'm not. How do these things work together to complete the picture of me? I haven't figured that out yet.

I'm working on it.....

This Day Means Nothing

It doesn't matter that a year ago today my husband was admitted to the hospital for observation due to possible arrhythmia.

It doesn't matter that in the middle of the night, about 3:30 AM, I was awakened by my cell phone ringing. It means nothing that this wasn't the first time I'd gotten a phone call of this nature.

It doesn't matter that the person who jarred me awake was a doctor at the hospital where Mark was only spending the night for observation.

What the doctor told me doesn't matter. That Mark had experienced arrhythmia and that it had stopped his heart.

It's not important that the doctor went on to tell me they had shocked and rescusitated him, then moved him to the ICU.

It doesn't matter that less than an hour later a nurse called me back and told me I may want to get to the hospital as soon as I can because he was real sick and they were worried.

It was no big deal when I called my friend and dad over to help me with my kids and transportation, or when I called Mark's parents to tell them what was happening.

It's inconsequential that what transpired over the next week sent our loved ones, Mark and myself into a tailspin of stress, worry, fear and grief.

The changes that have come as a result of these events don't matter either.

None of this means anything nor matters because I don't want it to. Because I don't want it to sit on our shoulders, pressing down, threatening to suffocate us with continuing stress, worry, fear and grief.

It all mattered at the time. But my husband made it through that trauma. He survived it. He is still with us.

That is what matters now.

Hope, love, endurance and strength are what matter.

For better or worse, in sickness and in health are what matter.

Always.


Linked with the Yeah Write Weekend Moonshine Grid.

Yesterday: A Post Script

Yesterday I posted about my conflicting feelings about how my life has unfolded. That I don't like to feel like life is hectic or busy, per se, but I also often feel held back and limited by my circumstances.

AFTER sharing this with you all, I saw my therapist, who explained what these kinds of feelings are: Ambivalence.

I had equated ambivalence with indifference until yesterday. The very last thing I feel is indifferent!

Ambivalence is a state of having simultaneous, conflicting feelings toward a person or thing.

I wish so much I had understood this before, so I wouldn't have spent so much time questioning myself and my feelings. Or feeling bad for them.

And on the same day I admit to the world that I sometimes feel like my life sucks, I click a link on Facebook and read:

Let go of the expectation that you have more than your fair share of crap to deal with. There are no shares. You don’t have a big pile of crap, you have life. Go live it.

From a blog post about how you can learn lessons about autism from The Princess Bride.

While I LOVE that movie, the post has absolutely nothing to do with me since I don't have an autistic child.

Yet it still spoke to me.

I just love that!

And I love how the Universe always helps me to learn the things I need to learn exactly when I need to. This is also a testament to the power of being open and expressing yourself. You just might get back something great.

I am such an idiot!

Never mind the fact that I Googled "half of 2/3" while baking this weekend.

::Face palm::

That's a minor thing.

No. I proclaimed more than once over the summer how I was looking forward to September, starting a new chapter with both of my kids in school full-time.....

It was gonna be great!

And it is.

But.

It was a CHANGE. A pretty big one. And I'm not always the best at change.

I have to warm to it. The idea has to grow on me. Then I'll be all, "Bring it on!"

One would think this was happening over the summer. That I had ample time to be ready for this new normal.

Apparently not.

When September 5 rolled around and my little boy was gone just like his big sister, it broke me a little.

Not so much that day. More like as the days marched on and both my children left me for six hours of each one. It started to sink in. The change had come.

I became a mess.

If I really think about it, it's not so much that something changed. It's not even really that it has to do with facing my babies growing up. At the heart of it is the fear and anxiety I write about so often.

This is why I'm an idiot. I should know by now that a change like this can set off a chain reaction of crazy emotions inside me. I should have expected it and planned for it.

I'm doing much better now. I've found a new routine and have plenty to do. And I like it. But man, I wish this past month had gone differently.

Let's be honest, shall we?

Last week I wrote a post about my stupid PTSD and anxiety. Again. For the umpteenth time.

In the days following my accidental publishing of said post, I did a lot of thinking.

A. Lot. Of. Thinking.

And I've come to a conclusion:

You cannot be 100% open and honest with another human being.

You might be able to be 99% open and honest with ONE person in your life. But the rest? Notsomuch.

And you still have to hold back 1% even from that person.

Because here's the thing:

There are simply things in life, things we feel and things we think, that we have to hold all on our own.

This is apparently something that is a Life Lesson for me. I have not been understanding of this thus far.

I don't think I'm being cynical. Cynicism doesn't look good on me.

Hi, does this cynicism make my butt look big?

Seriously, though. We love, we make connections, we spend time and "do life together". But at the end of the day, it's all you. It's you with your thoughts and feelings and struggles.

My husband is my person who can handle my 99%. I can express just about anything to Mark and know that he will, on some level, be understanding and loving.

The first biggest thing that makes me sad when I think of losing him to his illness is how it will affect our children. The second biggest thing that makes me sad is, for me, the loss of my person. If I lose Mark, I lose someone who gets me like no other.

It scares the hell out of me.

I've heard/seen/read (probably all of the above) that all human beings desire validation. For someone they turn to to say they hear you, they sympathize/empathize/understand/whatever.

That we're not alone in this big crazy world.

How any one of us could possibly feel alone on a planet with 7 billion other souls is beyond me! But it happens. We can feel isolated, like no one sees us.

And, I guess, that is something we have to carry sometimes. Sometimes another person can't help you carry your load, may even be sick of your load. It might feel like everyone is a bit of a "fair weather friend".

I'm thinking this is where that 1% that's all you comes in.

I mean, for what it's worth, this seems to be what this little emotional breakdown I've just had has shown me.

I must accept that I have to carry some of my shit on my own.

And I want to be proud of my ability to carry it, rather than feel like it's my Achilles heel.

Do you get what I'm saying?

Agree or Disagree?

Evolution of Love

Train of thought:

Watching a commercial for football....former players who are commentators now...shown walking down a hallway....thought it looked like they all walk funny....

Remembered that the way Mark walked when I first met him was something I found attractive -- I liked the way he carried himself....

But now, with his advanced diabetic neuropathy....he doesn't walk like that anymore.

Felt sad for a moment. Mostly for Mark. I recognize that I don't love him any less because he doesn't walk the same. In fact, I love him more today than I did then.

__________

I believe love evolves over time. It changes. Morphs. Begins as one thing, but becomes something different.

I get frustrated with what seems to be a lack of understanding that relationships should and do change. You know, the typical, "he's never romantic anymore" kind of thing.

What I've learned is that friendship is the foundation of a good marriage. You need to not only be in love with that person, but actually LIKE them too.

Like being around them. Like living with them. Enjoy their company. Find them interesting, funny, inspiring....worth sharing your life with. And genuinely want the other person to be happy.

Even when it isn't awesome. Or perhaps, especially when it isn't awesome.

Before I married Mark, while thinking it all through, and in order to help me know for certain that we were doing the right thing, I asked myself, "Do I want to break up with him? Or do I love him and want to be with him?"

I did not want to break up with him, I loved him and wanted us to be together. The idea of not being with Mark made my stomach do flips and tears prick my eyes.

So I felt I was ready to marry him.

Fast forward 14 years, two children and a slew of experiences later, and I realize the things that initially attracted me to Mark are not why I still love him today.

Like, not at all.

In fact, we are both pretty different from the day we met 18 years ago. And we should be.

What is the trick to growing and changing within a marriage?

I have my theories. Things like the big "C" -- communication. Always trying to balance time together with time apart, respecting each other's interests and doing the little things. I'm sure our many struggles that have bonded us are important too.

But when it comes down to it, I don't have the answers. All I know is what works for us.

And that Love evolves.

Stand in the Light

Last week I posted about soaking up the good.
A few days later I heard a much-loved song.

This is the chorus:

Uh hu.
Isn't it completely true that you have to go through darkness in order to find the light?
Think about it.
It can apply to so many things.
Struggle.
Heartache.
Ignorance. Conflict.
Once you move through it, you tend to see things differently.
In a whole new light.
And like the lyrics say, it's all a process. Nothing is learned or gained instantly.
We have to work on it.
Because life is a journey.
So is happiness.
Everything.
It can be exhausting.
But there is light.
And we can stand in it.