A sweet unexpected moment can be the miracle life-line that appears to help you get through whatever unknown or upside-down situation is challenging you.
Joy and laughter can emerge unexpectedly at the oddest time, even when your heart is breaking and you feel overwhelmed by a seemingly impossible situation.
First the pain, and then the rising.
Dare to feel the hurt, but don’t allow yourself to get stuck there. Face it. Love it and yourself, then buckle up and put your hands up on the roller-coaster ride. These highs and lows are a colorful part of living fully.
For those who cling to predictability found in their comfort zone, emotional detours from peace may not come easily. Hopefully it will come eventually. Ahhhh. Patience.
You can’t become a butterfly without being a caterpillar first. This willingness to allow the process without controlling it will expand your ability to notice love in unlikely places and see possibilities amidst the surreal reality that trauma and pain often trigger. It is amazing how open you can become when you are completely exhausted.
In a recent blog (https://rhondahull.com/2019/02/opening-to-the-love-found-in-in-between-moments/) I took you with me on my curious quest for the meaning unavoidably and awkwardly comes from ‘in between’ moments.
I am always amazed at the power that can come from ‘in-between’ moments where you are neither one or the other… not happy or sad. You get swept into a moment of just being. Moments like these take you beyond your control and penetrate your emotional armor. They are almost inexplicable. They are like that pause between an inhale and exhale that opens the floodgates. They put you in an altered Universe of suspended animation. Time stops in those moments. Everything becomes possible in those moments. Laughter or tears decide which will flow. The pain eases in those moments. Love is all their is in those moments. Your attention is shifted to joy, and eventually to gratitude if you somehow trust and ride the wave.
Ian Gunnell recently broke my heart open with his passing. This lingering pain triggered a flood of keepsake moments that emerged for me amidst the days of trauma we experienced when my grand-nephew maneuvered his initial dance with cancer.
As a tribute to Ian, I want to post a treasured memory of my now 14 year-old grand-nephew, Connor, then barely 2 as evidence of the courage of these cancer kids and their families, and the paradoxical vantage-point that allows you to witness that there is a plus to be found in every minus, but seldom without lots of tears.
Bless Connor and his family as they face the unknowns ahead. Bless Ian and his family as they walk their path of grief. Bless us all as we feel vulnerable and strong simultaneously, and may we dare to keep our hearts open, always grateful for ‘in-between’ moments.