Tuesday, October 18, 2011
I blog to share my thoughts, to tell stories, to entertain, to hopefully impart some knowledge, and lastly, to put to rest some of the craziness tumbling trough my brain.
I have always appreciated the power of the pen, and have a great respect for those who can articulate their thoughts through the written word. It becomes tangible, and hopefully if written well conveys a real meaning to words that can be otherwise misconstrued..
yes, it takes time, but what the hell what is more important? At least for me at the moment, not too much.
When I ride my bike, I often have a million thoughts shoot in and out my brain. Good, bad, absurd, brilliant, you name it. Over the years I've learn to respect all of them. I've made plenty of decisions, created new plans and foresaw my future all while pedaling circles..I suppose the trace-like rhythm of heart rate, breathing and increase of blood flow just brings out the creative juices and inklings of the subconscious. Or whatever it really is, I am thankful for the outlet as it cleanses both my body and soul.
Then there is the other kind of bike ride. That's the kind that does not allow the mind to wander. You are hanging on to dear life just to keep speed. Every thought is economized so you not fall off the back, pushing out the voice telling you about the pain etc. Obviously all thoughts are about survival. I often count rhythms of 3 or 5 in my head to keep that hypnotic state.. and that, my friends, is an entire other blog post.
Nonetheless, when I started this blog "To Belgium with Love", my aim was to share my observations of this now "middle aged" expat starting a new life over in Belgium. At that point, I had no idea how my life was to turn. That was the idea. That was the choice. That was the point. We NEVER know, do we? and dammit no matter how prepared you might think you are, you can never be EMOTIONALLY prepared. You just walk the path and sometimes the road has a few unforeseen detours.
A few blog posts ago I recall likening my life to one of a cat with 9 lives... well, I guess I'm on # 10.
Those of you who have been following my recent scribblings, know the unfortunate story of my recent loss. ~Gulp~ 11 weeks ago today, my life changed once again. This time as a complete surprise, not a made choice, but one thrown in by some never to be known reason...
Death apparently is the ultimate lesson in acceptance of change. You have NO choice. However there is one thing you can change. And that is your attitude towards it. Yet, that is more easily said than done. The process takes quite some time. I have no idea how long as it is different for everyone and you can not make it happen. Feelings seem to come out of nowhere and even ones you thought you dealt with can reappear. Wow, WTF? Again?
Another transition is not only the actual "loss" of your loved one and all the sadness of missing them but the "new" role you become. You are no longer a pair, a family etc. For a while, it is awkward. You are the "widow". You are strong but fragile, and You have to tell your story. Or maybe people have told it. You are looked at a bit differently. People aren't sure what to say. I'm not sure what to say. when I tell the story, the reaction is always hard to take. It is not an easy thing telling a sad story. Someday's I am fine and appear to be a pillar of strength and others, a complete mess! There are times I look at everyone and their mundane problems and feel angry and envious. What I would give for that! I have no patience for this grieving thing...
Then there is the reality check of starting over again... what number am I on? Oh yes, I think it is life #10.. ok, in this one I'm single again. Just as I was embracing married life and children, BOOM that was put to wicked halt. Ok, move along. take some time to observe, ponder and bike. Thoughts in, thoughts out.
One day I'll look back at all this and just sigh.. and I cannot wait..I know I'll make it fine, but I do think, I will never be the same. And yes you guessed right, tomorrow I'm getting on my bike!