Baggage.

So I cleaned out the closet yesterday (literally). I filled 8 black Hefty garbage bags with clothes, shoes, scarves. 8 bags of various versions of myself. Memories of apartments and people who have passed through my life. I also crammed remnants of an abusive relationship in those bags.

In a lot of ways, it feels good to be rid of the burden and clutter. It's as if an anvil has been physically and emotionally removed, permanently.

In other ways, it is rather sad. There were size 8 pants and pencil skirts in those bags. Size 8. Sigh.

I used to be __________________. I can fill in the blank with a plethora of adjectives and spin many sappy stories that would leave me dizzy with sorrow, longing and despair. I never appreciated it when I was so: young, pretty, thin, energetic, smooth skinned, etc. On some level I know wallowing in self-pity, missing those halcyon yesterdays is futile and damaging. I realize those things and times are gone; they aren't coming back. Ever. I cannot escape the possibility that I'm mourning very real loss.

If I get real still and quiet, I can hear it. "It's not fair." With it, there's something about vasculitis and Cushing's and something being prematurely pushed into menopause. There's something about chemo and something about predinose. Sigh. There it is. The familiar lubdub. "It's not fair." Yes, I know, "life's not fair." I know about ebb and flow. I know about gratitude and this could be much worse. I know that the Phoenix more than likely doesn't whine and complain each time it must reform from ash, even it is mythological. But I also know now is not the time for dismissing and distracting. Now is a time for feeling whatever arises: sadness, anger, loss.

So rather than be all Mary Poppins about it, clicking my heels and singing to distract myself from those feelings of loss and trying to make myself feel "happy" or "better", I think I'm just going to sit with it for a while. Lean into it and really feel it. Trust it won't last forever. No distractions. No pacifying. No wallowing or turning it into some big, dramatic story. Just awareness. Breath.

This is about remaining present and equanimous.

And even though there is a murky darkness and gloom in the right now, I'm also very aware of gratitude. Thanks for keeping me accountable and helping to bring me back to the present moment.

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