“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
– Mother Teresa of Calcutta
Finally. We had a nice evening. Uneventful, but in the best way.
Meaning, I didn’t lose my shit.
I still managed to polish off 3 Litres of wine yesterday (how is that possible, every day?) but Hubs did help with that somewhat. I was sitting in the chair as usual last night, watching Golden Girls (my other addiction) when I realized I wanted to be sitting on the couch with him.
Like we used to.
So I did.
And, in doing so, I felt so much better.
It really is all about connection.
Physical touch – but also the unspoken connection. It’s all the things you don’t say but can both feel. The invisible threads that bind you together. Born into a world the same way we go out – alone – we spend our entire lives seeking connection with others.
“Vulnerability is the only bridge to build connection”
Infants are comforted by the touch of their mother, seniors’ hearts are lifted by the company of visitors. And in that vast amount of time between birth and death (for the lucky ones who are given, or allow themselves, a vast amount of time) we all just look for that one person or thing we can truly connect with.
That person or thing that makes you feel like you’re home.
That person or thing you allow yourself to be vulnerable with.
We find comfort in having pets. (I have 4 dogs and my heart is crushed knowing I’ll be away from them for an entire month while in recovery. I worry they will miss me, when in all reality they probably aren’t even going to notice). Pets give us an unconditional sense of being needed.
We explore to discover music that aligns with our soul. We look to the soil to garden and connect with the earth. We write blog posts and glue ourselves to social media to find affinity with absolute strangers.
Anything that makes us feel like we aren’t alone.
Anything that gives us that sense of connection.
I struggle to connect with so many people and things. Alcohol is the one thing that is always ready, willing and waiting for me. Ready to numb all my connectors so I don’t have to think and I don’t have to care. And music. Music is always there to try and bring me back to life, or to help me lose myself even more.
We seek asylum in anything that makes us feel that connection with something greater than ourselves.
Something bigger than our fears.
Something that wraps itself around you.
It’s why hugs make us feel better. Admit it – everyone wants to be the little spoon.
There is an unspeakable comfort to be found through connection.
The problem is when we align ourselves with things that break or prevent those connections. Addiction, grief and mental illness does that.
It whispers to you that you don’t deserve it.
And I am so very tired of listening to it. I am ready to reconnect with so many things. All my loves fallen (read: pushed) to the wayside, I am ready to pick up and wrap myself around, again.
If they’ll have me.
I am ready to disconnect from so many things. All the toxic parts that have blurred my vision and stalled my feet.
I am ready to reconnect with myself.
I am ready.