Not long after the loss of my Father I had a song pour out on to the pages of my journal… it was the type of writing that I didn't think about, craft or compose. It just flowed out, and I captured what was being carried in my heart. I closed the journal after writing it, and didn't look at it again for a very long time. It crossed my mind every once in a while, and I would even think about pulling it out to see if the music was ready to emerge. However, it was always too raw… to hot to hold in my hands, and more pain than my heart was willing to expose.
This past Father's Day, exactly 11 years since saying goodbye to my dad for last time… I was ready to open that journal. I recognized a new feeling on my path of grief. I felt a strength and connection to my grief as part of my journey, but not the definition of who I am. I was ready to sing, and be free. Free from the locked room of my own hurt, and ready to open myself to the beautiful world of joy (and pain) that exists for our open hearts.
I share this rough video as a sign post on my road, and look forward to the directions it points me.
