A Series of Endings...then Beginnings

I know I just posted, but I have another completely unrelated thing to write about. I thought about tacking it onto the end of the holiday one, but thought that I didn't want to disrupt that happy ending. Not that this is going to be an unhappy post, but be prepared for some deepness. I know you've just been waiting in anticipation for my next discovery about myself, Imaginary Cyberspace Friend, so here it is.

I was watching the Biggest Loser the other day. Surprise, I know. This season has been kind of lackluster for me. It's only an hour, so there's really no time to get into the nitty gritty parts of the contestants' lives. It's felt incomplete. The show has tried by giving us a minute or less of a deep discovery and then cutting away to a contest or to a workout. Well, this past week, Jillian was given the opportunity to travel to one of her contestant's homes and train him exclusively. With this came much more time dedicated to one player, which allowed for a deeper than usual moment to happen. Jay, the name of the contestant, took Jillian to this giant hole in the ground. There, he told her about how this was his childhood home that had burned down a few years back. He then told her about how his parents had divorced a few years before that and how that devastated him. (Little side note: this is the second time in as many weeks that I heard about parents divorcing when their children are grown and the almost more tragic effect it has on the adult children. Just food for thought). Jay starts to talk about the future and starting over. Jillian then asks him, what died in your life? If you are beginning, then there was an end. It means that something inside of you died. And you can't really begin again until you grieve that death. What died? (or something very close to that). Jay tries to talk about the future again and Jillian cuts him off, like she does, and says again, "what died?" And Jay, this strong cowboy, father and husband, starts crying and says, "I did."

I immediately started crying. And not just a tear running daintily down my cheek, but that ugly type of crying that only happens when something has rung true about your own life. I have been trying to begin, very unsuccessfully, for the past several months. I thought I was in a place where I could begin after being in a bad place. But to get out of that bad place, I pushed everything down. It has been very much like my later teenage years where I had no real emotion. I don't cry. I only let emotions in when there is something highly stimulating (movies are a good example...and the Biggest Loser, I guess). I have become hard. And so, trying to begin has been impossible. I have not faced that pain. I have not faced that disappointment. I have not grieved over what has died in my life. And so many things did...all at once. I lost relationships (so many), a best friend, and even a single mom to understand me (I know this might be unfair, but it was an end to something big in my life). I think I haven't wanted to grieve because that would be admitting that it really is the end. That these parts have died. And not the kind of death that is only for time (for all my LDS friends). Grieving means accepting that. It means crying sometimes. It means stopping the longing for something that no longer exists. I have always said that I am meant to do hard things, but I will admit, I haven't wanted to do this.

Maybe I will try beginning again tomorrow. But this time, I will begin again with the knowledge that I begin after an end I didn't want or expect. What do I want for this next part of my life? I don't know. I'm coming to realize that this life is a series of endings...then beginnings...with some not really knowing what you're doing sprinkled in there sometimes.


I thought I'd add a cute picture of my niece, Kait, just for fun.

Comments

Popular Posts