Recently a series of events had me fade away, to regroup. Life, both personal and professional, had blind sided me in a way that I felt lost and floating in space.
I have been flying and traveling almost non-stop for several months. After a unusually long trip which kept me on the road for almost 3 straight weeks, an emotional family roller coaster visit, and lack of sleep (who knew sleep was so important), I entered into a group setting that slammed me into outer space.
I thought, before that trip, I was in a good place. I knew where I was going, I knew what my next set of steps were. Out of the blue, life stepped in to not only make me second guess everything I thought to be true, but doubt all my decisions in the last couple of years.
In times of sudden uncertainty or overwhelming confusing, I step back. I deliberately, without warning to those around me, simply stepped in to utter darkness.
I questioned everything, everyone, the truth, the universe, me.
Slowly a pin prick of light appeared and as time always does, allowed the light to grow and keep growing until I could breathe. Facts started spreading as I sat in silent contemplation. For the first time in a long time, the sound of hands reaching out to escort me to the light broke through.
Without realizing it, I found that past lessons are not being repeated even though at first glance it appeared that I was repeating the past. While we all live with our choices, good and bad, they all have consequences, the question is, did you learn from it the first time around.
The silent contemplation worked well for me. It let me lick my wounds, gave me time to heal, showed me that I have learned and grew and matured. I have chosen my friends more wisely, I have a solid foundation below my feet. I am recovering quicker because not only did I realize my friends are still there, but they support me, maybe even more than I do.
I am human and stepping back — even without warning — to contemplate what, who, and where I am is a normal part of this life. My friends understand my habits, they reached out, they were patient when I did not fully engage with them, but most importantly, they were there when I was ready for them to be.
Sometimes falling silent is not a bad thing, but telling people that’s what you are doing is even better. It’s easier to come back into the light when the contemplation needs to be acted upon or or let go.
While I am unsure of the future, I am more comfortable and confident I can handle the bad and the good. I have a solid foundation and now, through all of the patchy light, I know I am where I want to be, should be, and that I am better than OK.