|French Doors to my new apartment. Photo by T.L. Gray|
I don’t know a whole lot about souls. I can’t see one, can’t prove they exist in a court of law, and can’t give scientific evidence to establish any claims, but I can say this: who I was a year ago is not the same person I am today, and hold hope to be different tomorrow. I’m in transition from one reality to the next; one state of being into another; cocoon into butterfly. However, in this transition, I’m afraid of losing some of the best parts of me with the worst, or losing myself altogether. But I take comfort in Bukowski’s quote, because he’s right. The fact I worry about losing parts of me, means I’ve still got those parts left to lose.
I’m going through a marital separation and in the process find the dissolution of the relationship is only one piece of the development. Pulling our lives apart has many threads, many rungs and affects every section of my life; and the disconnection is very painful and confusing; my soul being divided. One part of me grieves for what was and could have been, yet another part of me is excited and hopeful for what can now be, but the whole thing is terrifying.
Another thing I notice during this transformation… I can be really solid one minute and completely feeble the next; a ghostly image of my former and future selves. I’d love for everyone to only witness my strong moments, but I can’t – hell, I refuse to - hide my weak ones, because they’re evidence my soul still thrives and fights for life.
Till next time,