I went through a tough phase at the end of last year. My dosage of mental health meds is high still but reducing, and my filters were lower. My regret for things I said and wrote to people, is still like a knife in my gut. I lost a few people. Still, in all things there is a silver lining, and I find myself with fewer chains to my past.
At 31, almost 32, I find this unsettling a bit, but I recognise this as a good thing. My baggage runs deep. Deep into the territory of shadow where the light and dark intersect. With some of it shed, some over 13 years worth, from different tough periods in my life, through dealing with some past trauma and stewing in introspection and healing a bit in rehab, I find that in faith I have something to carry me forward.
I am not in some special hallowed place career. My prospects as a writer are as good as any artist’s at their trade. However, I am looking at new ways to fill my life with meaning, purpose, and am for once, looking truly ahead to the not so distant future, the next few years, and not wondering about things long past – the spilled milk.
To new beginnings – Stepping away from the bittersweet past
A bridge of faith, across to a far beyond,
Stretching back to a past long gone,
I stop and stare, out over the edge,
The ground is not so far,
And there are mountains all around.
Maybe it is not in my destiny,
In the near future or ever,
To ford some great mountain,
But the rosy sunset, which I gleam,
Promises hope, and a better tomorrow.
All I must do for now, as I rest,
From trouble, and pain,
Is linger, and savour, and choose,
But one thing, to move forward,
And not back whence I came,
For in going ahead, is my future,
And there is not much left,
In what is now gone,
I hope there is wine, in my future,
With a loved one, but there is love already,
And a moment’s comfort, every few steps,
Of this chartered way for now.