We hear it said that time heals all wounds…. I am not sure I believe this to be true. I believe that there are tragedies in our lives that we never “get over” we simply learn to live and reside within a new normal. I believe there are pains so great that our soul carries them forward into our next life and maybe even more than that until the wrong is rectified and the Soul experiences what should have been in the first place.
We choose our life, we choose the moment we are to be reborn and use the stars to tell ourselves what it is we have chosen. It is the ultimate level of accountability…. because it means you not only choose your triumphs….. but you also chose your tragedies. It isn’t that God won’t give you anymore than you can handle…. it is that you won’t go through more than your highest self has said was acceptable.
Think about that for a minute.
Right now you fall on a spectrum somewhere between “I never thought of it that way, wow what have I done to myself” and ” I am never reading this Blog again because Wynter is nuts.” It’s okay… you don’t have to agree with me, but for me this realization, that I brought this life on myself was both at once terrifying and empowering.
I can let go of the man my father isn’t to me. My Higher Self doesn’t need him active with me this time around to grow…. I can accept that it was meant to be this time around to know the pain of a father who is incapable of showing that he loves me. And all at once wonder what the heck my higher self was thinking…. she must seriously be a glutton for punishment.
In my life I have known loss, I have known the loss of a baby. What it is to not meet the life growing inside me. This loss crippled me, and I thought I might implode and never recover. People I love rallied around me and I drew on their strength and love and adopted a fake it till you make it mentality. I haven’t made it yet. I have grown close to a woman in the last few months as she finished her pregnancy and has welcomed her daughter into the world. I have rejoiced with her and am truly happy for her. I love her. I would never wish for a minute for her to know my pain. But I see her, through pain colored glasses. A pain that flares everytime I see her precious little one. A pain that flies in beside the joy. I have accepted the loss of my little unknown, I recognize it is a mourning that my normal didn’t change. Having this pain doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for her, I believe quite to the contrary. Having the experience I do makes me uniquely (unfortunately not uniquely as far too many women know the pain of this loss) qualified to be elated for her and this precious little girl who I dreamed of before she was born and whose name was told me in that same dream before it was announced and before I even knew the options.
I feel guilty for having a hard time with this because there should be only joy, but the human construct is so complicated and we are capable of feeling so many things all at one time. We aren’t Tinker Bells.
I don’t even want to post this for fear that she may see it, for fear it will hurt her….. but I need to voice it because today it feels like I am being consummed.