Friday, October 30, 2015

Liquid Splinters

My tears have been flowing much more freely of late.  I've recently determined there are two types of crying. There's the cleansing, cathartic cry that gives old thoughts wings, and there's the tortuous, unproductive cry that torments your soul. I've been stuck in a retrospective period where I look back and wonder if, had I taken a different job or stayed with a certain boyfriend, my life would have turned out differently. Would I still have gotten sick? Would I be married by now? Would I have children? Would I have been spared the terror of losing a child? The "what if" game is dangerous and painful, and my mind has been playing it more than I'd like of late.
 
My writing is the ultimate therapy and escape for me, especially when I'm being haunted by memories that I can't change. It's my way of purging negative thoughts, of freeing myself from the "what ifs". Somehow, releasing them on paper, combined with the cathartic emotional release I experience, weaves what I hope are helpful, proactive thoughts for others to grasp as they cope with their own issues. Unfortunately, it's not something I can force. If I'm not inspired, my creativity shuts down. The lights may be on, but no one with an ounce of inspiration and productivity is home.
 
One thing that can help inspire me is music. I make play lists on YouTube of songs that take me back to certain times in my life, or that remind me of difficult times. My mom was listening with me the other night, and she commented that most of the songs are sad. I guess she's right. Most of them do pull on my heartstrings, but that's the way I make my own music. Diving back into the deep end of difficult times reminds me not only of my strength, but of my survival of things that should have taken my life.
 
Swimming through the sometimes dark, murky waters of my past inspires me, reminds me that I can overcome whatever challenges me with God's help. It humbles me that I've been chosen to continue on this path, difficult as it may be. I'm still walking. I'm trying to hold my head high. Music acts like a magnet, drawing out my tears like the emotional splinters they are and gives me the chance to purge hurtful pieces of my past that I didn't even realize were there.

There are times while writing when I can't stop the tears from falling. They can be rough and sharp as they hit my cheeks and trickle down my face. They're pieces of my past that have been buried so long and so deep, only to finally be freed by music that takes me back to the moment it first burrowed into my soul. Crying isn't always a bad thing. Much like the rain nourishes the Earth, tears nourish the spirit. They wash away the past and feed the positive aspects of your soul's library of feelings and memories.

Of the many things I wish to accomplish with my writing, I'd love to inspire tolerance among readers. We all have our battles, not one more serious or difficult than another. Each struggle is relative.  Rather than fighting about our differences, why can't we unite in our similarities? We all bleed the same blood, cry the same tears. Their causes may be different, but not one person is exempt from them.
 
Change happens one step at a time, and the past is healed one tear at a time. There is no perfect recipe to overcome that which ails us. In my own life, I'm accepting my tears as a sign of growth and change. I can't evolve as an individual if my heart and mind are crowded with dark memories and regret. Music is a magnet for my emotional splinters, my writing is the way I weave past mistakes into healing and God is there to wipe my tears.... yesterday, today and tomorrow.