The windows to our soul

     While overly stressed out, overwhelmed, anxious, and in an excruciating state of transition, I sit here and smile. Why? Because life has been far, far worse. It is extremely difficult not to constantly be thinking of this time last year. As seasons and weather shifts happen, we are reminded of the last time it was this way; that familiarity stirs up memories and emotion which can either be good or bad. 
     We can get caught up in this game of both remembering and forgetting. We want to remember this but forget that. We want to live in this moment, but act as if that one never existed. The truth is that we cannot manipulate our brains enough to make this happen entirely in our favor. Sure our brains suppress specific things in order to attempt to protect us. But without the bad, would we even appreciate the good? Without that event taking place, our lives would forever be altered, & maybe not for the better. I supposed the point is that we need it all to happen, whether we remember it or not ,it shapes us into who we are in this very moment. As I type this & as you read it, we are being shaped and molded into something. Into someone. Someone that may change the world, or at least their part of it. Someone that may defy the odds, overcome, and tell their story to others to aide in their own healing. We just really don't know why things happen, and if we allow ourselves to stay stuck for too long, we won't get to that place to live it out. 
    Life is confusing, it's messy, and it's on somedays the last thing we want to be a part of. But it's also fascinating, liberating, and so full of love. Sure, I'm still hurt. I'm still healing, and I am still fighting. But I looked in the mirror yesterday and I saw something that had returned. A staple of MRB. My eyes. In this case, my eyes truly are the window to my soul, the telling sign of my health, my happiness, my state of being. I looked in the mirror and I saw it. That sparkle; it's back and I can feel it. So on the frustrating days, the days I want to throw something at the wall or throw in the towel, I'll look in the mirror. & even when tears stream down my face I'll see that it's there: that sparkle. The twinkle that captivates. I'll see it and remind myself, it's a process. What a difference a year makes.

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