There’s the awakening when you realize the beauty of love, and you dream of it so strongly for yourself that it seems close enough to touch it. Fantasy and imagination create. It feels good, full of anticipation and hope and wonder and magic. And you may camp there a while because who wouldn’t? But after a while, as long as that takes, you realize that the fantasy and reality don’t match. There’s the inevitable mental crashing and heart crushing where all the illusions that you once held onto and the ones you were also creating at that moment are shattered. Then there’s the panic. It’s like you’re in surgery, but you’re wide awake, aware of everything happening to you. And the only thing that you can do is hold your heart wide open to receive this terrifying newness of vulnerability that you had never tapped into before. And not because you think your situation is going to change but because you know things can’t stay the same. There’s no other choice but to go through the terror. A new birthing takes place within and without. You travel through the foreign vortex. As your vision adjusts to this new terrain, the secret part of you will want to revisit old reminiscences because in this new world you’ve entered, nothing new will have been created yet. In this new place, you may even try to recreate the old but will find it futile, as it will be like striking a match head that only produces sparks and will not ignite into a sustained flame. And then you are awake– for real awake– because there is a journey ahead of you, and you realize you’ve stayed in a place far longer than you should have. You experience everything as it comes anew. Nothing old lingers, and you realize you are the better for it. The old rags of paralyzing nostalgia unravel their hold. You walk with a small limp of regret for all the time you’ve wasted, but you see it as a gift, for you know it’s a persistent nudge, reminding you of where you’ve been– where you never want to return– and that you have far more mobility than limitations to move and be. You just want to live.
Photo credit: Kultur Tava