"This is the turning point," she says.
Tipping Point.
"I envision so much more for you," Love says.
I'm shaking and crying and I can't imagine sleeping even though I've been working for 13 hours straight. I can't imagine sleeping ever again. I can't imagine being tired ever again. I can't imagine not being tired. I'm SO tired. Tired has become something entirely different. Something beyond mental and emotional exhaustion that turns into being wired. Punishment. Rest would be too kind for me. I wish I could be JUST tired.
"It starts now," she says. How does it start now? How do you move from this point? How do you give it all up without speaking? How do you let something you have given so much to for so long slip through your fingers without a word? Wouldn't that be giving up? Am I supposed to give up? Is this positive? Is that not defeat? Is there anyone winning here? Is there anything left to be won? Giving. Giving up. Giving in. Giving out. Giving to myself.
I would love to sleep.
I would love to sleep before I work 38 hours straight. All over again.
All over again.
All over again.
All over again.
All over again.
"Monumental changes happen one day at a time," she says before getting off the phone.
Things need to and will change. Monumentally.
I'm waiting, but I'm not waiting anymore.
3 comments:
Awesome post title. Good luck with everything. I still think you've got a pretty lower lip. I'm looking forward to our non-coffee coffee meeting on Saturday.
Remember our mantra?
One moment at a time. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get me from this moment right now to the next moment, and then I will deal with that next moment then. Feel everything fully, follow each feeling through to the very end, and then you'll find that the moments become hours, days, weeks, and then months. And then you find that you feel so very differently about everything.
But start with one moment.
Love you, babushka.
-Love
Another one for you from Jaunt's beautiful quote book:
"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings."
-Anais Nin
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