I cried in the shower this morning.
Such a safe place to have a good cry, wrapped in a cocoon of tile and steam, where the walls echo my sobs so that I hear myself as though somebody else, someone not me, so that I the listener can say to me the crier, “Shh. There, there, love. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
That's what friends and acquaintances often say to me about my upcoming sojourn in Greece. “You are so brave!” These voices, all these enthusiastic voices racing in my head, “I admire you, Chrys,” “You are such a strong woman,” “You are so brave,” you are so brave, you are so, you are so, so brave, so brave.
Brave? I’m terrified.
I am not leaving my house in order to set out on an adventure. I am leaving my house because I have to. The divorce decree says so.
Brave? Look at me! I'm crying like a child.
I don’t want to leave my house. Not yet. I’m not ready. I love my little house, I always have. This sweet house has been a rock in my life, a comfort, a constant. I wish I could buy it. I wish I could buy it and fix her little problems and tend to her gardens again. I wish, I wish, I wish.
I wish I could just drop everything and go to Greece and live in a little village for a while and learn something new.
*poof!*
I raise my face to the stream of water, wash away the last of my tears. Brave, terrified, it doesn't matter. There are things I need to do today. I turn off the water, pull open the curtain, reach for my towel, and step out. Out of the tub, out of the crying, into the moment.
That, my friends, is the bravest step I have ever taken.
Such a safe place to have a good cry, wrapped in a cocoon of tile and steam, where the walls echo my sobs so that I hear myself as though somebody else, someone not me, so that I the listener can say to me the crier, “Shh. There, there, love. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
* * *
“You are so brave!”
That's what friends and acquaintances often say to me about my upcoming sojourn in Greece. “You are so brave!” These voices, all these enthusiastic voices racing in my head, “I admire you, Chrys,” “You are such a strong woman,” “You are so brave,” you are so brave, you are so, you are so, so brave, so brave.
Brave? I’m terrified.
I am not leaving my house in order to set out on an adventure. I am leaving my house because I have to. The divorce decree says so.
 |
| Happy Little House, 2004 |
Brave? Look at me! I'm crying like a child.
I don’t want to leave my house. Not yet. I’m not ready. I love my little house, I always have. This sweet house has been a rock in my life, a comfort, a constant. I wish I could buy it. I wish I could buy it and fix her little problems and tend to her gardens again. I wish, I wish, I wish.
I wish I could just drop everything and go to Greece and live in a little village for a while and learn something new.
*poof!*
I raise my face to the stream of water, wash away the last of my tears. Brave, terrified, it doesn't matter. There are things I need to do today. I turn off the water, pull open the curtain, reach for my towel, and step out. Out of the tub, out of the crying, into the moment.
That, my friends, is the bravest step I have ever taken.
2 comments:
I believe from the wise words of Mia's Dad in Princess Diaries, "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something is more important than fear." You are very brave, Mommy, and you inspire me :)
Aw, thank you, my sweet child. As I recall, a certain couple of offspring of mine went to Greece three years ago, and the youngest is heading to Australia. Who's inspirin' whom? ;)
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