First Must Come Rain
Grief. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it until recently. This quiet, lingering heaviness. This lonely, necessary sadness. Inviting me to slow down, surrender, and let it move through.
In a culture that worships happiness, the deeper, more nuanced emotions feel wrong. But, there is no light without shadow. And, I am being asked to embrace mine now. To integrate her into the fullness of who I’m becoming.
I had a kind of awakening last July when I finally said f*ck it and chose to radically follow my heart back out West. The beginning was beautiful and exciting. But, the months that followed weren’t exactly what I had hoped for. Lost friendships, car troubles, financial challenges, old insecurities resurfacing, unrequited affection… Not to mention the fires in January. (Like, damn. I need a minute.)
I thought I was going to LA to establish a long term home. But, now I see that my soul led me there to catalyze a deeper evolution. Like, asking God for flowers without realizing that first, must come rain.
A little known stage in the awakening process, I’m learning, is grief. Mourning the old self and the old life as they die away to make space for the new.
The death of the girl, the rising of the woman. A rite of passage I am honored to take, even though it hurts.
Every seed dies before it grows. Every caterpillar turns into goo before becoming a butterfly. Every birth canal feels dark and painful. But, on the other side—a miracle.
Once again, surrendering to the mysterious pull that always leads me to healing and, ultimately, more joy. Just not always in the ways or the timeline I would have hoped for.
If you are going through a similar time, you are seen. You are not alone. Keep your eyes on the little speck of light ahead. It’s coming soon now.