These are my musings and observations on my daily life, loves and the laughter that are all a part of my experience of living now in the shires of England.

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Mountains of Pleasure and Valleys of Loss

Let me start this off by saying I have a good life, I really do. But sometimes, in the middle of the mountains of pleasure that I experience for the majority of the time, I can fall into the deep, deep crevasse that is my personal valley of loss.

It is a long way down. I don’t know when I will stumble into it, but when I do I just stay still and cry.

The tears that flow do not trickle out of me, they pour rapidly and my body shakes with the immense pain of the loss. And it’s not just one loss that I feel when I am temporarily trapped in this valley: it is all the losses of all my time. I feel total devastation.

This is not a trite recollection of some ancient time. This is fresh.

I am in the valley now.

I have been here before. However, I do know that my tears will provide the leverage to float me free of my depths and I will once again walk the mountain paths.

A memory triggered me and I slipped. Losing my footing I went into free fall. I’m not sure whether it was the bruising on the way down that hurts my chest now or the actual pain of ejecting the tears from my body, but I ache as I cry.

As I fell I reached out for something to save me, alas all I caught were more links to losses in my life and they tumbled down the valley with me.

As I sat, dejected on the floor, the images of people and places flickered before me. They will never be replaced, they are gone – forever. And that is why this journey into loss hurts so much each time it catches me unawares.

It is hard to see clearly as my eyes are filled with water, but my heart also replays the images with no loss of definition. So I remember it all.

And then, suddenly, I breathe. I exhale.

I notice the tears have stopped and I have the strength to stand again.

127 Hours dir. Danny Boyle

Falteringly at first I do stand up and then, looking up to the brilliant skies and welcoming faces that are peering down to me from the top of the mountain, I begin to climb back to the top. The people in my life now are calling me back; they are willing me to quickly ascend the valley to be with them. I smile and wipe away the tears as I climb.

It does not take too long before I am again on the mountain enjoying the pleasure with my friends and loved ones.

The loss is always there and I know that sometimes I will fall back into it. I also know that I always rise again.

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