Isolation, whether it’s chosen or thrust upon you, can have a deep effect on our hearts.
Isolation can be positive. My disappearance was not one that I desired. It happened. It appeared. And like when you find yourself bobbing in an endless ocean, you must simply hang on and wait for rescue.
I don’t know for sure if rescue has come. But I find myself in that place of waking a little. Blinking at the harsh lights of reality and wondering where I might fit into it all right now.
I’m not sure I do.
Fit in, that is.
Because if there is one thing isolation can do, it can cause you to slacken inside and be re-molded.
I know the Potter so I was not afraid.
But it wasn’t without pain. Or loss. Or sorrow.
Deaths, even if they are internal, are like that.
So I stretch my wings, a little at a time, and begin to write again. To find my way. To tell you that it is possible to come out the other side. Changed. Broken. Different. Whole.
All words I can apply.
It’s ironic how I feel inside, because outside the weather is changing. The colder winds are blowing and nature is battening down the hatches for a long winter. And here I am waking up.
I am not sure how much of my story I should share, but I will tell you this much. There is a story to my absence.
A story to the journey.
I have not arrived anywhere at all and yet . . . maybe arrivals take a different form than we expect sometimes.
so hello again.