I'm restless in this journey, hovering somewhere between grief and healing, and impatient to arrive where my destiny lies. Sometimes I feel on the verge of what, I do not know, but I'm filled with a certain excitement, as if I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to fly. The fear makes my heart jump into my throat, and I'm tied in knots.
"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune, without the words, and never stops at all." ~Emily Dickenson
Lately I've been silent on the outside. I don't want to talk about my therapy sessions, though my husband tries to get me to open up. The words get stuck in my throat. We have a couples session today. I know that all he longs for is some insight into what is going on in my head. I don't know how to give him that. Our sessions seem to help, but I think it is more my therapist telling him what is going on, rather than sharing myself. I know that I must try harder, although I'm not sure what holds me back. Maybe somewhere inside of this restlessness, my soul will break free.
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3 Comments:
I know where you are coming from. Sometime I think opening up and sharing just makes everything to "real". Maybe that is why it is so hard to share. Just a thought. Wishing you peace.
Try to keep finding words.
They are there, as you say.
Just try to sing them.
And that is my all time favourite poem xxxx
You can do this. Hang in there babe.
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