All in belonging
There’s a particular contentment that comes in our falling in love again, dreaming again, hoping again. In our moments of rediscovered innocence, and in our informed and yet defiant idealism. As we reconstruct life on the other side of grief, loss, and tremendous shifts in perspective, the greatest refuge to be found is in the new things we love. It’s almost a kind of resurrection, where you’re armed with all you’ve experienced and learned, but open to something new and beautiful.
The failure... and the fallout. The biggest surprise that comes with wrecking your life as you knew it is often how eerily quiet the aftermath can be. You almost wish everything about it would be more epic – that your existence could be scored and edited like a film, or that your external world would feel more visceral and more loud to echo the turmoil inside... But pain can be so very silent. And suffering so very magnified by the stillness imposed in time's absolute refusal to fast forward. Grief can be at its worst when it's... mundane.