i believe in standing back up

after years of cynicism, here's what i found out- i believe in love. and hope. and compassion. and faith. and falling down. and standing back up. and laughing. and tears. and devotion. and listening. and changing my mind. i believe in community. i believe in respecting and guarding some boundaries. and i believe in crossing others. i believe in holding hands. a lot. i believe in that a lot.

i wrote that a few years ago. i've been thinking about it a lot lately. about the standing back up part. it took me so long to realize that was the difference for me. and that standing back up didn't have to mean standing apart.

lately, i've also been thinking about the holding hands part. in my mission to find love in all the nooks and crannies of life, i forgot that love can be bigger than the nooks and crannies, sometimes it's the whole world breaking open. right in front of me. and sometimes it's in between those two extremes. i also set a goal to be more independent. i've met that goal, a little too well, i've forgotten to hold hands.

so, standing back up and holding hands, these are my prayers. they're not so far off from courage and grace.

looking forward

one month later, and i haven't cried on the commute since that post. i still cry when i talk to mike, or suzanne, or dad. it's one of those things where we all know our lives have changed, but we also know that we don't really know how yet.

maybe it's the change in weather, and days getting longer. or maybe it's that four months have passed, and it's just time to look forward. maybe i really believe the dream about mom, that i'm comfortable with love. that i've been ready, i just didn't realize it. something changed when mom died. my heart didn't just break, it broke open. i knew that even as i was visiting her in the hospital.

since that night, of the dream, i've let people back in, farther than before. i'm realizing how jaded i've been. and how much it no longer serves me.

i'm looking forward, and making plans, and it doesn't feel like going through the motions, or inappropriate while grieving.

it feels like living.

it feels like intention.