a million pieces of me.

There is a strange place of joy that exists in grief and lament. An acknowledgement of peace amid the things that never got to be because of a year (or moments), that did not turn out the way we expected them to. The million pieces of us, that we reconcile for better or worse into the heart of who we want to be. Lately, I find myself swimming in the peace of grieving the things that never were, again, with the courage and hope to tell myself that it was more than okay, because I am a firm believer of the notion that we arrive in our moments exactly on time, no sooner or later than we were intended to do so.

I think its because of this that I find myself holding hope in the idea that we can constantly reimagine our places and spaces; that there is freedom to move within the trajectories we have scaffolded onto our lives, in moments for better or worse we can choose to either embrace or forget. I’ve learnt this holiday season perhaps, to put up a different kind of tree, a tree filled with the stories I have told, or perhaps chosen to tell myself of that has framed my experiences this year. The stories that I will pick to take with me on the journey in becoming, and the stories I will in time learn to heal myself of and let go.

There is something collectively beautiful within this thought and the idea that a moment lost, is a moment gone forever; that we will never live a moment like this again, for better or worse, just as we won’t the next day or the one after that. There is also something heartbreaking about not surrendering kindness in providing yourself grace to be, within opportunities that fill us with a regret of what could have been, had we been better stewards or champions of the moments that presented themselves to us. That said, I’d like to imagine as well that along our journey to becoming, there are intentional moments and spaces within our encounters, where the primary goal is to engage with regret and make mistakes, in order to cultivate the lessons and stories we need to champion in the seasons to come. In so doing perhaps, we learn the ability to carry the better part of ourselves in the light of the process; the human expression of living within our experience.

In my reconciliation, I’ve learned to embrace kindness and joy in pieces of me that perhaps live in juxtaposition with one another; parts that aren’t necessarily experienced linearly, but still reflect the very core and heart of who I was and have grown to be. The more I’ve learnt to share in the stories of people that come and go in my life, the more I learn to acknowledge the truth that I may never know the full account of pieces I throw across into the sea. I take heart knowing that through every passing moment, I am growing to embody the very best of me in the places and spaces I can never live again. To find a life filled with a constant purpose to be, not striving towards or for, but taking courage and heart, dangerously knowing that the very best of me exists in moments to come, as I choose with intentionality, to live courageously within my many million pieces.