"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear it's sounds, but you cannot tell where it comes from, or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the spirit." John 3:8
Shortly after John's death, any time alone gave me complete anxiety. The worst part of my day was my drive home from work on interstate 5 and having to walk through my front door, knowing he was not on the other end anymore. I hated the silence. When I simply had nothing but my thoughts and the silence of my house, I would completely fall apart. I would sob until I couldn't breathe, punch things until my knuckles felt numb. I would sit in each room of our house and just stare at every picture, paint color, article of clothing. I felt crazy. The silence felt like an additional death that I had to relive every day, so I did everything to avoid it. I believe it is why I allowed myself to become so busy with changes and decision making shortly after his death. I became a master of distraction in order to suppress the pit in my chest. Those moments of silence were when I realized just how human I was, and my complete lack of control over my pain.
It has been interesting how my outlook on solitude and silence has changed over the last 15 months. This is something that has become a major part of my journey through grief and has begun to help shape the woman I am rediscovering in my heart. The woman I know John always saw and believed in. This woman is different. She has new marks upon her face that tell a story to others. She wants to listen to others with an open heart, an open mind. She wants to open her heart again and allow new love in when she's ready. She wants to spend time walking along the trails, riding through the woods, bursting through the rapids with confidence and respect for the outdoors. She wants a peaceful life where she can remain present and in tune with herself and others. She wants to always be aware of how fragile her life is, how fragile John's life was and to honor her time here through adventure, love for herself and others, love for her creator. She wants to live in the mountains.
It is no secret at this point that I rely completely on my faith in a higher power in order to walk through this pain. My faith falls completely on a God that I believe exist. A God I believe loves me unconditionally and loves my husband. Over the last 15 months, it has been in those moments of complete silence where I believe he has opened my heart and exposed me to a love that is so overwhelming that I feel speechless at times. I have transformed from being afraid of those moments of silence and solitude to completely needing them for growth and understanding. My house and the mountains have become my sanctuary for silence and getting to know the woman I am becoming through my creator.
"The mountains will bring peace to the people." Psalm 72:3
I believe these last few months have been a chapter of solitude for me for a reason. I feel as if my heart has slowly been transformed and that transformation has allowed me to feel more and more love and gratitude for the people around me. The silence has allowed me to become a better listener to those that need to speak. The silence has allowed me to help others that ask for help. The silence has reminded me to love myself, love others and love this world that we live in.
I've been around people throughout my life that put more energy towards finding reasons to dislike others than finding common ground and searching for the inner light I believe we all have regardless of whether or not we chose to tap into it. I have been guilty of this myself at times, allowing negativity to play into the dynamic of relationships. I really regret that.
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?" Matthew 7:3-4
What we have here is withering away, and our time here is so temporary, so what we do here in that time matters so much. How we treat others matters so much. I believe God has continued to speak to my heart and ask for moments of silence with me so I can feel not only the incredible love he has for me, but the love he has for this world, the love he has for my husband and those that are not with us anymore. I believe he needs me to understand this deep love he has for me, so I can pour that love out to others and be an advocate for his love.
I believe that regardless of your beliefs, if you are on a journey of grief, a journey of loss, a walk through pain, taking time each day to allow yourself to be quiet, to breathe, to listen, is so important. It is in those moments where I believe this universe speaks to us, teaches us new understandings, new perspectives. These moments allow us to evolve and change. They allow us to move forward.
Last night I sat on my porch alone for the first time in about a week. I've been surrounded by company and a busy work schedule for the past week that has been a distraction from these much needed moments that I believe are so crucial. I was reading Outside Magazine and listening to "First Aid Kit" on Pandora radio. I can't quite tell you when it happened, but there was a moment during that time on the porch where I felt an overwhelming feeling of love and happiness that brought tears to my eyes. It was as if God was sitting right beside me with his arm around me, enjoying this moment with me, swaying to the music. I would imagine God loves First Aid Kit just as I do, they are amazing:) As I sat there, I thought to myself, I feel so blessed this evening that I am able to sit here alone and content knowing in my heart that John is somewhere incredible right now possibly doing the same thing and thinking of me. It is like these moments will pass by that if I just pause long enough and let my heart feel it, I imagine and can feel his existence taking place somewhere else, just around the bend. I believe that in those moments, he too can feel my love, and the mere thought of that alone creates pure joy in my heart.
I am now forever grateful for the silence and always will be.
