Truth

 It came to me suddenly. a thought - or rather, a truth.
You run from pain.
A natural inclination - hardly profound. who doesn’t run from pain?
And yet - it presses at me.
Where does your mind go when you start to feel your eyes prickle?
What do you do when you turn the page and there is the loss staring you in the face?
Do you dig deeper?
Do you let it close?
No.
You run.
And your go-to, in a matter of seconds, is a digital escape route. Instagram. Facebook. Etsy. A mirage of images. A world of distractions. You dip a toe in.
I’ll just take a look.
And as the minutes trickle on, the pain is buried. Deep enough that the emotion is silenced.
But it lies in wait.
It’s still there.
And it shows up in the most unlikeliest of places…. a sentimental commercial, a Disney film, a song that plucks at just the right chords of your heart in a given moment, a passing photograph of a moment in the past.
And suddenly you’re choking back tears, startled.
Why does this matter? Why am I upset? What’s wrong with me?
You’re caught between wanting to let it spill over and trying to hold it all back.
It’s a wrestling match of your head versus your heart.
I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to do ________, _________ , __________.
You stuff it back under, you bury it deeper. You take a quick fix distraction over an in depth heart assessment.
Who’s got time for that anyways? I’ve got a million things to do.
How did I become this person whose every moment is accounted for, who seems propelled continually forward to chase ambitions that she can never quite catch?
Who has all these plans and ideas that get lost or buried in the wake of her social media addiction?
Who makes goals and a year later, realizes she hasn’t even come close?
Who makes promises to herself that she frequently breaks?
I’m present. I’m grateful. I’m focused. I’m driven. I’m thankful. I love. I listen. I create.
And yet…
What?
When did you stop letting yourself be sad?
When did you start telling yourself that doing was more important than feeling - unless it was someone else’s feelings that needed airing?
When was the last time you ugly-cried - the kind where it feels like a dam has broken loose and you’re a runny, red streaked mess at the end of it all?
When did you last write about it? Sing about it?
Deal with it?
It’s been too long.

Stop running.