Healing doesn’t mean we stop grieving. Time doesn’t mean the wounds aren’t still fresh in places we forgot to look. Distance doesn’t mean we aren’t still trying to find our footing in the aftermath.
Grief will continue to come in waves.
Memories remain seared into the sides of our heart.
Normal is never the same as it was before.
But we learn a new way of being and living and relating to the world around us. We learn how capable we are of thriving, rather than just surviving. And we learn to lean back into life and love and all the things that broke us in the first place. We rebuild trust. We let go of fear. We open our minds, our hearts, our souls. And we begin to find the kind of purpose and happiness and connection that can carry us forward into what comes next.
If we’re willing to walk through it.
To feel it all fully and completely.
To be honest about what’s hard and what hurts.
To face into the parts that are ugly and messy.
As Anne Lamott says, “it’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”
We just have to start dancing.