I’ve been sick this week, and had stayed home for two days, pretty much reclined on the couch with tissues, liquids, tv shows, and furry kitty. My husband was home sick too; a rare occurrence by itself, but the two of us down? Unheard of.
As long as I can recall, if I am ever sick enough to be home, I will reach a point of utter despair when all I can do is weep. I would slide into a well of weakness, feeling pathetic; self-judgmental, really just the lowest I could ever feel about myself. It wouldn’t matter if I was home alone or had company, sooner or later, it would hit me.
On the second day this week, I realized that I hadn’t cried. At that point, I was still feeling shitty but over the worst, so was a little surprised. I attempted to evoke pitiful feelings but they just wouldn’t materialize. This has always been one of my traits and yet, it appeared to no longer be of use to me.
Life, when allowed to evolve on its own is a beautiful thing, the realization struck last night whilst driving to pick up a friend. Perhaps the reason I didn’t feel like crying was because I’d given myself permission to be empowered, to make a choice, to take control of my own life. That being sick was just that; a period of time when the body is fighting invaders and nothing more.
It may seem like a small thing; to feel no need to cry when sick but it’s a step, and that’s what evolving is, right?…steps toward change? For a few moments yesterday, I felt in such a positive place. I knew with clarity that life can’t be forced. I have set things in motion, I have dealt my hand and now I am witnessing my life blossom, apparently without my even knowing.