Phoenix Time

There is a moment in life when you get blindsided by the fact that the man you believe you could love has, in fact, fallen for someone else. This truth leads to extensive crying where you can feel the tears being squeezed from your eyes while at the same time finding it hard to pinpoint why you feel so much. Then you awake the next day and you realize that you are grieving the loss of possibility. That you are hurt by the re-opening of a rejection wound inflicted many years before. That you are mourning an end of certain things, places, and actions. But if you look deep, in that place you have been ignoring, you realize that you are not lamenting the loss of the man - himself. Part of this is because you know he will never be gone and part of this is the because you know (now) it was never what you imagined. And two days later a friend suggests how good it was to have learned, cried and realized all this while at home. In that place surrounded by those who love you so that you can be reminded of the WHO that you are. The mighty WHO that is the real you and not the unchosen girl you thought yourself to be. And then you remember a lesson from the man about THIS moment. And you repeat it ... this moment. And you pick up the mantra you had left aside weeks ago when you got lost and say it over and over ... "this moment, this moment ..." and with it you jump back into the only sure thing there is - the neverending flux and change of the world.