Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Sitting In The Stillness

My goodness.


Someone said this today.

And in reading it I found the exact words I needed.

Maybe she said sit, but still ... (pun not intended).

That's it.

That's where my life has changed so.

There have been so many firsts.

So many things I'm experiencing all on my own.

But this. This is it.

Sitting in the stillness.

I didn't do all the things all the time.

Didn't run around all weekend every weekend.

And yet, on these days. These quiet days.

The ones when I'm home alone with my daughter and feeling guilty.

Or the ones where I find that I am at home, completely by myself?

That's what it is.

I find the difficulties fall in sitting in the stillness.

I'm comfortable with being still.

Whether I read. Write. Watch TV.

Move around the house without direction.

I'm okay with it.

I always have been.

And yet.

It's so very different now.

So different.

It's me.

Just me.

Sitting alone.

And there's no one to talk about things with.

No one to process the week with.

No one to sift through feelings with.

And maybe I'm imagining.

Maybe I never really did much of that at all.

But it's missing.

And when I'm home with my daughter and feel as though I'm lacking?

Those days hurt.

They're the days when I try to find myself and see that I'm missing.

I feel as though there is so much more I should be doing with her.

But we never actually ran ALL the time.

We just did stuff.

And I wonder, is that what's missing?

But it's not just that.

That stuff is okay to *miss*.

The spending money unnecessarily because we'd go to a store for nothing we really needed.

The looking for things to fill a void we didn't know existed.

It's the sitting in the stillness.

Those are the moments my mind goes forward.

Those are the moments I wonder. I think too much.

Those are the moments I find tears streaming down my face.

Thoughts of what used to be.

Six months into this I'm okay.

I really am.

And yet. I still struggle.

Sitting in the stillness.


  1. My brain is too dead to be coherent but I wanted to let you know I'm here reading.

  2. That physical stillness you described so beautifully... even if it can be painful at times. While I am not in your shoes, I do empathize. Please know I'm just a text away my friend.


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