Emerging To Light

I’ve always loved the saying, “There’s light at the end of the tunnel”. I never knew why until recently. It evokes a feeling of hope and hope is something that I’ve discovered runs through my whole being. I had been talking to Matt one night about me, my life, all of the changes that it consistently brings. I was kind of searching through my database of thought about events that had happened to me while growing up. The not so good things. The way that I felt so separated from my family a lot of the time, how there were so many years that my mother and I didn’t like each other, at all. The period of time when my sister and I seemed like we were from different planets and how I felt like my whole family had died when my father died so many years ago. But, amidst all of the sadness and pain that I was feeling, Matt identified something else that was there from how I talked about it all. Something that may have been a defense mechanism that I used to protect myself, but now, looking back, I’m glad to have had it and am definitely glad it’s there now. HOPE. Hope is what I latch onto when things aren’t quite right and when new things are being discovered and developed. Hope is what pulls me through and, I guess, it’s how I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

 I can remember when my mom would call and say she was coming to visit that I would at first feel tense and wonder how I would tell Matt that she was coming. I somehow would have to say that she would only be here for a couple of weeks, making it seem like less time than it actually was. His response, although loving, was always a reminder of how the last visit was. How after a few days it felt like months and how we would wind up feeling upset or trapped. Even writing this I can feel the hope rising up inside of me because as he would say those things I would feel like maybe this next time it would be different. I would hold the possibility that this time, it wouldn’t be so bad. And you know what?! it happened. The visits became easier and there were times that my mom would come and we loved having her here. I’m so fortunate that I had hope and that I had the ability to know that anything is possible. Even with difficult relationships that seem like they’re cemented in stone. Nothing is forever. Isn’t that so true?

 Many changes are happening over here because I think I’m changing. I’m still me, but I’m realizing how quiet I’ve been about so much of myself. I’ve felt blocked and didn’t even know it until someone told me that I could share more about myself. My instant response was defensiveness and we all know what lies at the bottom of being defensive. Truth. Usually we put up that wall because somewhere we know that whatever it is we’re being called out on is, somehow, small or large, true. And as I looked at myself and what I share or don’t share, I realized that the scale has been tipped toward not sharing. It brings feelings of apprehension, feelings of self doubt but I’m hoping (there I go again) that I can push through and find the courage and strength not to care about what other people think, because that’s what holds me back, and for what, not living my life out loud like I want to be able to do. I had the thought about a week ago that we are here, on this planet, in the company of all of these other people to share ourselves and be a part of the human experience. When we neglect to share ourselves, it’s truly a selfish act that not only doesn’t allow others to experience who we are but we don’t get to fully express and experience ourselves. Life is a huge experiment in interaction and the more we interact with each other and the world around us, the more we learn about who we are and what we have to share with the world.

 So here I sit, after what feels like a few months of darkness and I am clearly seeing that light at the end. I know that at some point, other transitions will take place, the path ahead may seem dark and so long that I can’t imagine it ending but I also know that just like life is a continuous cycle, that light will reappear. It will be there. And that, is hope.

 I took the image above while on an adventure with Mason. We were walking through the Headlands and came across some old bunkers. They were covered in graffiti and ugly and beautiful all at the same time. There were passageways that Mason discovered between them and I took this photograph through one of those walkways. I just loved how the whole experience mimicked what I’ve been feeling lately. There was some fear and apprehension at the beginning of the passage because it was dark and long and kind of scary. We went together and as we walked through that darkness, a space of light and a beautiful burst of creativity was there to greet us.