walking the path . . .
she just wanted to feel something more. was this how everyone else reacted to their worlds?
like the man quickly typing on his laptop, allowing his coffee to grow cold. what was he writing? was it meaningful to him? did it complete him, fulfill his life?
or the woman talking animatedly to another, in between peals of laughter. how expressive she was with her hands, and how her eyes lit up with each word spoken. it didn't seem as if she felt numb. she certainly didn't appear to be living in an emotional fog.
oh, how she wanted to jump up and fling her arms in the air, and scream at the top of her lungs! but then what? how would she follow up such an act? just sit back down and calmly sip her cappuccino?
yet she was silently screaming inside. and perhaps it was just as damaging as yelling out loud.
walking the path to disintegration . . .
it wasn't what she'd thought or imagined it would be like. this slow destruction of her existence.
apparently no one else could see how truly distressed she was. maybe it would be better if they did. a kind word, a compassionate glance. but no - she'd worked hard to conceal the truth. to present an altered reality through her outward appearance.
it was difficult though. and it hurt. and she felt so very, very alone.
tired, deflated, uncertain, fearful. which way was out? how could she climb back up and escape? when would she feel strong enough to take her first step forward?
walking the path to integrated wellness . . .
it was a good sign that she was thinking about this, right? she must not be giving up if she was contemplating her future. if she realized the abyss that she was in, it was an indication that she craved a better tomorrow. she knew she needed to fight her way back. she wanted the struggle to come to an end.
consistency, not chaos. clarity, not confusion.
walking the path was crucial.
energized, lively, hopeful, bold. everything in life was a choice. she chose to begin her transformational journey.
to begin walking the path.
this story is familiar to me. i have been in her shoes. maybe you see yourself as well?
walking the path . . .
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