Thursday, December 29, 2005

The way to control a bull is to give it a big pasture

Allowing ourselves to feel our losses without minimizing or judging them is how we heal the wounds we may still be carrying from our years of infertility. Ironically, experiencing grief loosens its grip on us. Feeling our hearts break and then sitting still long enough for grace to find its way in through the cracks is the surest way I know to restore the energy and joy we need to get on with our lives.

Excerpted from "Hot Flashes, Warm Bottles," by Nancy London.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have come to realize I have been carrying a heavy burden. It is called grief. It has followed me, loss after loss. Growing unwielding, until my body can barely stand under it's weight.

I used to write all the time, for myself, for newsletters and magazines. I authored several self-published books. But as my grief grew, I found myself unable to write, unable to feel deeply. For fear that all my grief and sorrow would come tumbling out. Overwhelming me, destroying me.

It is time to lay that burden down. I have created this blog to write about my grief, my sorrow. To express it in the way I know best. To write again for the sheer joy of writing!

This will not be a journal of my life, which is full of family, love and happiness. I won't bore you with the minuteness of my day-to-day adventures in living.

But it will be a journal of my sorrow, loss and grief. Are you are strong enough to join me? Are you unafraid to feel deeply? Or to shed a few tears? Then I welcome you on this journey of self-expression...

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