Mirrors.

I haven’t felt like writing recently. My last post left me feeling vulnerable and wide open. It wasn’t what I had intended, but hey, I said what I had to say. I feel it was the right thing to do – I don’t regret saying what I said, and the effects, well, they’re the effects of being honest, of being sincere, of living in hope I suppose.

COVID wasn’t fun. What a weird little virus that is. But at least it gave me the best few night’s sleep I’ve had in years.

Anyways. I won’t keep you long.

Tonight I did some mirror work as part of my Self-Love Journal exercises. ‘A good way to rapidly connect with your heart and soul’…..yes, indeed it is.

Not the first time I’ve done mirror work, which consists of simply staring into your eyes in a mirror and observing what comes up.

Tonight I said to myself that I looked tired. Even after sleeping so well recently.

Saying this to myself made me sad.

I reflected on looking tired. I have every fucking right to look tired. I thought back to what I’ve been through. A divorce. The break-ups of a relationship. Leaving my company behind and everything that that entailed over 18 arduous months. Leaving my children behind. The biggest, most important beings of light in my life. Leaving a country behind. Starting again, in my homeland, from scratch. Re-building family relationships. Leaving behind the most important sentimental relationship of my life. Starting again on my own. All the while working on me, year after year, experience after experience. And now, the hardest personal work I’ve ever done that is shaking me to my core, every fucking night, night after night. COVID. A real mental and emotional low point in the past week or so.

Yeah. I felt sad for myself. And I have every fucking right to look tired. It’s a miracle I’m still here, and still going.

I felt admiration and respect well up inside of me as I looked at myself in the mirror. Nobody does what I’m fucking doing. Nobody takes the path I’ve taken. Nobody. And look how far I’ve come. And I will keep on going, no matter what.

I know it feels like the pain and trials and tests are never ending, but I’ve thought the same of so many stages during the past 4 and a half years. I will get through it all, because that is what I do.

I felt sadness that I’m in this position, but also strength and admiration for the way I’ve got to where I am. I get through this and I’m going to fucking fly. I haven’t even started yet. Looking tired?? I just keep on going. Every fucking day. Every page, every word, every letter, every conversation, every thought, every understanding…every. Fucking. Day.

Where I rebuild myself. Where the tears don’t stop and nor does the work.

For that’s what I’m here to do.

Have you looked in the mirror recently? Really looked?

We’re all warriors. And it’s a miracle we are where we are.

J