On Losing Ourselves

It happens slowly, at least I think it usually does. Maybe it begins with less sleep, the exhaustion slowly consuming us. Maybe it begins with an abrupt change, shifting and even shattering our routines and disciplines. Or maybe it begins with a restless feeling, a darkness that crawls over us and gradually consumes the light.

We cut corners. We begin to lose our grasp on the pieces of ourselves that refresh us and bring happiness. As the heaviness sets in and the dull feeling takes over, we feel like a poor version of ourselves, a shell of the person we really are.

But that’s how it starts.

Then the excuses are ushered in. There’s not enough time. There’s not enough energy. Everything else is demanding our attention and we forget to demand our own attention. We don’t see where we’ve gone and we don’t pull ourselves back.

Next, the things in our lives that don’t usually bother us, they start to feel heavy. The people around us, even the ones we love, we turn away, even close down or withdraw. Everything we come across is exhausting and exasperating.

But this isn’t the truth. These are not the people and the things draining us. They are not weighing heavy.

The beautiful thing about life is that we can change our course quickly. If we can open up, embrace our power, embrace our responsibility, we can shift our perspective, change our direction, respond differently. If we can see the darkness that has surrounded us, we can release it and bring the light back. After all, the light is so much better. We can release and relax and receive again.

It can take days and weeks and months for the darkness to build up, but just one moment for the light  to come back in. We have to choose it. We have to open up to it. We have to welcome it in and stay true to it.

It’s work. It’s intentional and consistent. But we are responsible for this and it is so beautiful.

Being a mom