That Little White Rock

I closed my eyes. I tried to put words to what I felt. And then the images came. It started out as black and grey swirled together until it became clearer. There was a town, a deserted type one that would come out of a Tim Burton film. It was being overcome by the dark clouds that were forming. It was bleak and lonely and sad. Not the type of place you would want to visit. Then as I sank deeper into the feeling I felt the tears slowly falling down my face but not in a way that I had to stop them. Then the image changed. It was a bare room. All a dark wood. There was a window with the shadows pouring in. And in the corner was a young girl. Dark hair. White nightgown. Curled up in the corner crying and scared. And I didnt mention it at first. But she somehow knew I saw more. As I tried to mention it the sobbing began. I think I knew. The session progressed and she had me visualize sitting next to the girl. She asked what happened. I said the girl crawled onto my lap wanting to be held. As the moments progressed the tears slowed and a light appeared in the room, I felt the heaviness lift. There was hope. It all made sense in the most confusing way.

I suppose this is why I dont delve into my emotions. I am too scared of what I will see. I am so visual. The images were so clear. I realized that inside I truly was as small and scared as I thought I might be. I realized that the insecurities and loneliness were real and a part of me. A part that has been neglected as I have tried to avoid grief and pain. But this upcoming loss has brought it all back. The grieving has began and it is so painful and I didnt realize how much I hurt inside.

The suggestion was art therapy. I was embarrassed  I can visualize the most magnificent creations but my execution doesnt exist. The point was to come away with something tangible. Something to give me that hope when I feel overwhelmed in the cloud that slips over the town and hides the light. She pulled out a small canvas. And I immediately asked if she had a rock or marble. She smiled. She knew I recognized what I needed. I slowly picked up each rock from the basket she handed me and chose one. It was small but large enough to fit perfectly in my hand. It was nearly white and not quite circular. I explained that its imperfection in being a circle and the discoloration along with its impeccable smoothness reminded me to accept the imperfections that life holds and to recognize that in its own way it is perfect. It brings me a sense of acceptance and hope.

I am not overly good at loving sometimes, at least I think so. But as I look at these two beautiful girls that I love like both sisters and children I realize that I love them more than anything. And watching them leave will break my heart and the time leading up to it will be full of grieving and it will continue to bring up insecurities and previous losses and pain. But today I realized that as hard as it is there is hope and that I am just scared. Scared that everyone I love will leave or be unable to stay. Scared that I will never be more than alone. But I saw today that I can be the one there for myself when there is no one else. And I think I will be okay. I will probably cry every single day as I look into their beautiful eyes with the knowledge that their lives are going to be so hard. But in the end I will be able to hold onto the little white rock and remember that there is hope amidst the darkness.