I am taking a much needed break, so I wanted to do a repost of something originally published in Sept 2016, that still rings true for me today. Sometimes destruction clears the path for something better you cannot see in the haze of the dust that has yet to settle. Enjoy and speak with you soon.
Hell on Earth can be exactly that, but it can also be the point where you see with the most clarity. When you hit rock bottom it is then that you have vision, if you choose to peer through the rubble of what you thought was your everything and take courage by the hand–letting it lead you through to your metamorphosis.
This is your moment and two years ago it was mine. Everything I thought was love, loyalty, and truth imploded and nothing remained. And for the next two years I teetered on the brink of disaster and insanity– sometimes the only saving grace between myself and calling the whole thing off and joining the “great gig in the sky” was telling myself over and over to go to sleep. Fighting an overactive mind and exhausted body that could do major damage if left to their own devices.
I put myself on autopilot and decided that the only real thing that had never failed me was my intuition. This was never more real during my divorce.
He was unloading everything and that included me and my child. I had no way to finance the retaining of counsel, and truthfully was angered at the thought of stealing money from my own child’s well being for some legal bun war.
The fact was that we were going to be homeless. As the days wound down to the first date, I dug my heels in and fought for a reprieve. I would have six extra months to try and carve something from nothing.
Never had I had more doors slammed in my face from leasing offices in my life. The concessions I had made that worked to balance work and family in the past would not be sufficient enough to sustain us.
By the time the date came around, I had gone to my intuition. And what it was telling me seemed ridiculous. When I thought about fighting for a share of the assets, I felt nauseous, but when I asked if I should just sign it all away, I felt peace. It made sense to no one, especially me.
In comparison to what I did receive, what I walked away from was by all accounts immense. But having faith was to be my sustenance. I signed those papers with only the knowledge that my “last legs” SUV was to be our home and walked out.
A week later a seemingly unsolicited email showed up for a place and I had an overwhelming urge to visit, even though my heart couldn’t take another no.
There, I found someone who took on my situation like it was her own and the next week I had keys in hand, merely weeks before I was legally required to be gone.
And be it good, bad or indifferent the ex helped me move.
Looking back, what I thought I wanted was someone else’s dream. And if I hadn’t been shaken to my core in order to realize that faith was all I had, things could’ve been worse.
It wasn’t without struggle, but that struggle has created a new diamond–one that once again sees, as I did at eighteen, that impossible is only a limit you place on yourself through dealing with the shrewd merchants and peddlers of fear.
I had rebuilt my life before, but this time taught me to trust my inner voice when nothing makes sense.
Just because you can’t see the other side is not a good reason to stay in the harbor and let your life corrode and disintegrate in the supposed safety away from the waves.
And most importantly, if you don’t fight your way out of your cocoon, you can never hope to fly.
Image Credit: Meli1670/Pixabay