As I’ve alluded to in previous posts, things over here in Maggie-land haven’t been all roses. I’m going to be honest with you all – it’s been downright tough.
In fact, most days end up a 50/50 draw between good and bad, up and down. I’m trying to keep on slogging, but some days, it’s easier said than done. My patience and love have been tested and pushed beyond their limits, and I’m generally just feeling… empty.
I’ve mostly been left with the urge to run and hide under a mountain of blankets and pillows in my parents’ non-existent basement and not come out until Spring. The temptation to just run, and allow fear of everything to take over is pretty great. The fear of getting hurt, fear of trusting, fear of lord-knows-what-all is almost too much to take some days. Why would I want to put my best, vulnerable, honest self out there again and again when it may not be enough for someone? Vulnerability is hard enough as it is. Being taken advantage of, being taken for granted or being outright rejected makes the thought of doing it all over again overwhelming, scary and frankly nauseating. I just want to stay hurt and bitter and cynical some days. Wearing an armour of sorts.
But as I was reading my dear, dear blogger-friend Anne’s post on something somewhat related, she said something that struck a chord deeply within me. She wrote:
“Choose love, always. I try so, so hard to do this, but fear always creeps back in like some nasty, annoying pest. I guess that is what this life is all about, right? Life is simply a journey of choosing love – every second of every minute of every day until we die. We have to choose it.”
I need to choose love over fear. Even when I don’t want to.
Fear is at the root of so, so many things. Hurt. Anger. Anxiety, amongst others. All of these things are terribly familiar to me, and right now, admittedly somewhat comforting. But really, I have been so afraid of so many things for so long. I have to choose love. In doing so, I’m choosing forgiveness. I’m choosing to love in spite of the hurt. It’s hard, and it will likely be an uphill battle, but I need, need to choose love. Besides, I can be afraid of whatever’s next, but I don’t know what it is – what’s the point, really, of wasting the little energy I have left on these things I can’t yet see? As someone who doesn’t do well with uncertainty, this is akin to throwing myself off a cliff and hoping there’s a lake below.
I need to practice, perhaps, choosing love in my day-to-day, because it’s also choosing hope. I don’t feel terribly hopeful these days, but without hope what else have I got left?
As a write this, a thunderstorm is rumbling away. I am afraid of storms. I’m huddled in the corner of my living room away from the windows so I don’t see or hear the storm. I’m bracing for the thunder. But the sun is starting to peek out. I can see it trying to stream in. As much as I want to keep huddling, I’m desperate to see if there’s a rainbow to the East. I don’t want to miss it – I love rainbows.
I guess it’s a sign.