Darkness and Light

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Self Portrait in Acrylic Paints, by Wendy Bloom

I want to get back to writing daily.

I want to begin the process of writing a memoir.

I want to be healthier, happier, and more emotionally stable.

I want. I want. I want.

Why is it such a challenge to value what is mine, already?

I am well aware of the truth that we only exist in the present moment. There is no assurance that we will even have another moment, or that we will have a future that consists of years, ahead of us.

I feel like I cannot always see the sacred, though it is right in front of me, because I struggle so much with the darkness of my soul.

I’m in a beautiful place. One that many never see. Even in Hawaii, I am feeling vulnerable, and in pain psychologically.

Perhaps I built up expectations about being hugely happier here, and because they didn’t pan out, I’ve fallen down.

It’s so hard to understand severe depression. Because it doesn’t really make any sense. Understanding that you think a certain way, and you see the world in a particular way that can be harmful to yourself, doesn’t eradicate those thoughts and feelings.

I am feeling like I’m pretty ready to return home. I miss my friends, and my support group of women that meets weekly. I miss being around people who know me, at a deeper level, who have been there even when I’ve been submerged totally in dark places.

I haven’t written about some of what is getting to me. It’s in the spiritual realm, and not all of my readers would appreciate, or, even believe me.

I’ve learned in the past year especially, that there is much more to the world than what we see.

I believe that everything has a deeper meaning to it, than the one we take for granted, the one that’s on the surface.

Being reintroduced to a sect of Judaism that I can embrace has helped me to move forward in my thinking.

I know with certainty, there are beings all around us of light, but also those that are profane. We interact with them daily, but we just cannot see them.

Sometimes, even when it’s right in my face, it’s hard for me to appreciate beauty.

I suppose that none of us, no matter how enlightened, can appreciate the goodness interspersed with the bad, all of the time.

Maybe the trick is to remember that even when everything seems bleak, somewhere beauty shines. It could even appear right in the middle of our personal path.

Not that this negates the hardships, but perhaps it makes them more bearable.

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