I am at the end of my sunset walk. By now, the darkness has started to take over the ocean. It's beautiful! The last light of day is barely there, illuminating the shimmering waves.
Once again, I find myself deep in thought...
I think about wisdom. I had just finished a phone conversation with my dear friend Shari. Shari pointed out how she enjoyed seeing the world through my eyes. I honestly don't understand what is so unique about my thought process. Don't we all think the same?
I do believe we all have the same feelings and emotions. We might process them differently, but we are equally human beings.
So, what is wisdom for me?
Wisdom is the experience that I learned from my mistakes and my success. Wisdom is the willingness to be open to new ideas and to accept and adapt to new ways to view my life. Wisdom is willing to embrace life as it is with no negotiation and no expectations. Wisdom is knowing when to let go of my stubbornness, which holds me back from going forward.
By now, I am the only one walking on the beach. I can feel the waves. The faint glow of the waves sings a lullaby to me as night takes over.
As I return the following day, the moon still shines her light on me. It is six-thirty in the morning. She is alone up there; only a lonely star rests beside her. She probably needed her space to regain some energy to fill herself so she could energize us all.
I often wonder if I am the only one with such a deep thought. I know I am not! I think most of us are just unwilling to step into that long, dark tunnel.
I can only speak from my own experience. Today, my tunnels are short. In the past, my tunnels seemed to be going forever. So many times, I fall and get up. My path was full of rocks that made me stumble to the ground, causing me to bleed. But I kept going, refusing to take a flashlight. I know the only way to truly be rewarded with a bright light at the end of the tunnel is for me to feel the darkness, raw and naked. I know the only way to exit as a warrior is to enter as a survivor, not as a victim.
I had a tough evening. After I uploaded my book to Amazon for testing to check if everything was right, my file got corrupted. On top of it all, I am still struggling to understand how to convert my InDesign file to an e-book.
All the wisdom in the world can't stop me from falling on my face. I feel that all the work I put in the past few weeks is gone.
My phone rings with a Facetime call from Adi. Adi is visiting Ron in Boulder. I love it when my boys spend time together. They are getting ready to go to a New Year’s party. They both remind me to take a deep breath, close the laptop, and try to solve my problem tomorrow. Well, I can tell you it is much easier to advise than to receive, but I am listening. I know that this loop in my head is going to get bigger if I am not going to take that big breath. I close the laptop, but the loop is already so big that it pulls me in another direction.
I am torturing myself with crazy thoughts, realizing they are together in the same car driving on New Year's Eve. Please don't ask me why I do that. Why do I sabotage my own joy? Thankfully, I pull myself out very quickly, recognizing what is happening in my head. I am falling into my default, which I am still working to change. I still have work to do. After all, a wholehearted life is a journey in and of itself.
Okay, here's a little secret: there's no way I could start the day without confirming that my babies are okay. I checked my phone and saw two dots together at Ron's apartment, so yes, now I can start my day.
Today is my dad's unveiling ceremony. I feel ready to create my own ceremony now. The power of grieving with an open heart is a gift.
I feel free at last!
It is a peaceful morning. The skies are covered with fluffy grayish clouds covering the blue skies hiding the sun. It gives the ocean a beautiful color, a very silvery, calming color. The waves are gentle, and there is no drama in the air. It feels good in my bones to be in the space I am in right now. I am present!
I am walking along the wave's edge, looking for a beautiful shell to bury. I find a quiet spot and dig a hole. I recite the Jewish prayer for the dead. I do feel light and free. It seems it was a fast process of grieving, but I put all my heart and soul into it. I have only love for my dad; there is no anger in me. There is the acceptance of what it was and the journey I took to exit the tunnel as a warrior.
Yes! A new day! A fresh, relaxed energy! I did solve the corrupted file. Sometimes, it is so good to be proud of myself with so much joy!
I spent a lot of time alone these last few weeks. I need this space to be able to use all my creative outlets with no interruptions. I don't want anything to overshadow my creative writing.
However, I always have space to let new friendships be created.
Last week, I finally had the wonderful opportunity to meet Sarah. Why do I say finally? Sarah reached out to me last year through one of the Facebook groups where I posted my journey. We did try to see if our paths would cross, but it did not work out. Last week, we met for breakfast.
Sarah lives full-time in her RV. Realizing she could do her work remotely motivated her to pursue her nomadic life.
On one of my quiet morning walks, I strode toward another woman. I can feel pain in her eyes and her slim limbs. I stopped and asked if she was okay and if she needed any help. She confirmed she was fine. She just fell and twisted her ankle, but she should be fine.
The following morning, I saw her again. This time, we started a much deeper conversation. I learned that Deanna lost her husband not long ago and is still very much grieving his loss. We exchanged phone numbers and tentatively planned to meet for an evening walk.
I sense Deanna's need to share and create a new canvas of her late husband with me. I am honored to give her that space, as our time together has given her a little comfort in her world of sadness.
There is something extraordinary when you meet a stranger and there is a spark of spiritual connection. Last evening, as I walked to the island's north tip, a young woman was sitting on the narrow beach, looking into the horizon. As I pass her, she compliments me on my colorful jacket.
Yes, a simple and open conversation got us to recognize our parallel quest to live life with an honest heart. Jenni is in her mid-thirties, still young and vibrant. She is working on her first novel. How exciting!
On my walk back, I wondered about my life when I was thirty and the level of wisdom I had back then. I appreciate my wisdom today. It feels powerful to own it. I have many years ahead of me to put it into practice.