|"Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy." -Anne Frank|
I have experience with this. I know that all beginnings are hard. But I forget the beginnings easily. It's when the beginnings are happening . . . that's when it feels like my life has been an endless string of them. That's when I start to feel impossibly weary. Weary of beginnings.
Things come gradually. Everything works out gradually. But it's hard to see "gradually". It's hard to feel like anything is getting better when it's only gradually.
Beginnings don't work out well right away. It's as though my real life evaporated . . . and now I have to make do with pieces that should fit together into a new life. But they don't. They're all separate and disjointed and wrong. And each little piece is a mountain and a battle. Something that I have to climb and fight and conquer. And it's hard. It just is.
I wouldn't mind crawling in a hole and living there for a very long time. But I can't really do that. So I guess I'm just going to keep plodding. I guess I'm just going to focus on the things that hold me together. Like good books and long walks with Piper and beautiful music and colored leaves . . .
Currently Reading: The Book Thief, The Grace Awakening, and Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson
Not knowing when the dawn will come
I open every door;
Or has it feathers like a bird,
Or billows like a shore?