Serenity is found in acceptance

Each week on Tuesday evening, I go to therapy. It's good medicine, therapy is. I sought it last October for myriad reasons, but all falling under the category of Didn't think I'd be here and not at all sure how to handle it. Therapy is not cheap and insurance doesn't cover but a small part of the price, so it's a gift to myself -- one that keeps on giving, to be sure. It's also a commitment, because sometimes I don't at all like what comes from my mouth and I am not comfortable with the challenges, but little by little the tenseness fades and I'm able to dismantle the issues and rebuild new comprehension and behavior. When I leave, I feel drained but I also feel a bit empowered and able to carry on. Every time I walk into his office and an hour later walk out, I take a breath and tell myself I am in the right place. It's the truth.

Towards the end of February, my therapist suggested that I refrain from writing about a certain someone in this space for the month of March. When he said that, I pulled my head back and looked at him with more than a little hesitation. I wasn't sure I could do what he was asking me to do.

I wasn't sure I could do it because I've gotten accustomed over the years to writing out or at least about some of my issues right here on this site. But what he knew and I couldn't see at the time was that I was hanging onto my pain by focusing on it. If I could shift my focus, I could heal and move on.

And so I stopped writing about the certain someone. And what that did was make me look beyond my pain and outside of myself. I found my inspiration again. I found laughter. I found myself among the living and the caring.

Earlier this week, I spent some time in my archives. I went back to October when the whole romantic shift began and I not only read what I wrote but remembered the writing and recalled what was between the lines as well, recalled what I did not write. And like shifting through shards to find the shape of the whole, I saw clearly the signs. I saw the caution I did not want to admit, I saw the fear, and I saw the clinging to belief not because I believed but because I wanted to believe. I also saw myself pushing the doubts down and charging ahead. I saw a slow unraveling and a stiff upper lip attitude. Most of all, for the first time, I saw in my own words clear signs that it was not going to work. I saw him being careless with my heart. I saw instability put roots in my life and I saw the undoing. I saw myself learning the lesson of what could be doesn't necessarily mean will be or is.

Reading my words did not give me sadness or anger. In fact, reading my words gave me a certain peace. I think in the end it's not our actions we regret but our stillness. I have peace in knowing that I tried, that I opened up and loved. I also have peace in how things turned out. I could have done without the pain, that's a given, but I have stability back in my life and fear out of my life. And sitting here on this beautiful Friday morning, I realize that I am free of the burden of having instability in my life. It's a very peaceful feeling.

From our walk this morning. Freedom looks good, doesn't it?