What have I learned from my journey? I have learned to slow down; I have learned to understand solitude vs. loneliness; I have learned to be a little gentler on myself; I have learned to look at the future with optimism, look at the future as a gift of life given to me by her. I have learned to feel her by my side on the magical moments life can provide. I have learned to focus on what is important and left behind parts of my past that are not giving me anything worth anything.
I am learning to be in peace with whom I am and where I am in my life. I am learning to find my limitations and accept them instead of constantly feel bad about how much farther I could get if I push myself beyond my comfort zone. I am still learning to forget; I am still learning to control my feelings; I am still learning to feel confident with who I am and how it relates to all people surrounding me. I am still learning to finish things; I am still learning to live in the moment and less in the future.
I am wrong! The journey has not taught me any of that; I had all that inside me. The journey has cleared my mind, it has translated the thoughts I carried through the years, all the wisdom life has piled in my head that I could not see clearly. All the conversations, experiences, readings, knowledge have reorganized in my head and in my heart so it can be understood. Thinking in solitude, the mind surrounded by nature, the sound of the wind, the sound of the river, the cold air in my face, the legs burning from the long hikes, the skin burning under the sun, all that was my therapy, all that built my route to understanding and eventually to real healing.
I feel like in order to heal the wounds of my lost I needed to reach inside; I needed to get deep to apply the prescribed medicine in order to really heal. The routine of my life three months ago did not allow me to reach close enough. It wasn’t until I cleared my path from the fast pace life that it was my normal, that I started seeing the effects of the healing power of my thoughts in solitude. It wasn’t until then that I could talk to her, that I could understand the lost; that I could understand that it was OK, that losing her was as much part of life as creating it, a critical priceless part of life. Now that I feel in peace I know she is also in peace, and she will let me free to follow my path, and she will be free to dissolve with all the wonders on this world so she can be found by all of us in the special moments of our lives.
I am not ready. I still have a lot to learn, I still have a lot to build before I start a new life. I keep recognizing the learning power of experiences and I see more clearly that I am not ready. Now that life has slowed down, now that the rhythm of my everyday has found some more sanity, I recognize that there is still a lot more to experience. The wheels are moving, the options are opening, the opportunities are taken but I still need to learn more about life, about myself. I still have not found meaning to everything that surrounds me and I will let my compass free to get me closer to experiences I have not been exposed to yet.
I have met many people on the road but still not enough. I need to discover more knowledge through new people. I also need to listen to those I thought wrong in the past. I still need to dig inside a little deeper. I feel like I just started.
The healing process is going very well. I do not believe it has been time that has really made this process successful. I really believe solitude and the decision to bring the pain to the surface during my long hours of driving have been the real medicine. My long conversations with Sue in my mind, the letters I wrote to her along the way, sharing my feelings with the world outside, all those have been steps towards my recovery. I do not believe that would have worked for just anybody. I do believe the route I chose would have been very dangerous for most people, but not for me. Solitude has been a great friend; it has increased my confidence, it has taught me to think better, to express myself within more clearly. It has helped to connect better with her. I do feel now that she is with me all the time, that she is part of me forever.
I feel I am in limbo; I pretend to stay in limbo until I can feel comfortable with the answers to the questions that repeat in my mind every day. I am not sure if I will ever find answers to the questions we all carry inside that make us a little dizzy, a little lost, questions many find answers through faith and love. I understood love; I experienced unconditional love. I know I am capable of it, and I know it can fill a lot of gaps in your life. I will explore the world finding answers to all the questions we tend to ignore once we find love. Maybe I will find love and that will be my answer and all will settle down in peace.
The moments I have lived in the last three months have found more questions than answers, but they have given me direction, they have given me a better compass in life. Focusing in life has helped me focus in grief. There was a clear line that separates those two different beasts, and I have managed to tame them both. Unfortunately it has also created clarity about all the issues I carried with me well before the lost of my wife. I believed grief is like a critical injury; if you have a healthy body and soul you can overcome it easier but if you have an unhealthy life, a life that carries too many questions, too many lies, too much confusion, then the recovery requires to go farther than just grief; and grief will use your sickness to dig a deeper hole in your life.