There's an unspoken language to loss.
Any kind of loss.
Loss of a loved one. Loss of a dream. What could've been and even what should've been. Sometimes what we have in mind and what God has planned doesn't align. And sometimes that breaks our hearts. Forces us to change our plans and often who we are. Loss challanges us; forces us to ask questions we're rarely ready for. But sometimes, those questions and challenges and changes strengthen muscles we didn't even know we had. Allowing us to become the people who are truly ready to experience. To live, to love ourselves and others, to create, and to design. But even so, as we beat on boats against the current, loss tends to stay with us. Like a scar or a very old picture. But that loss or those scars aren't always a bad thing. The language of loss isn't a spoken language or words in a dictionary. It's a look in another person's eyes that says, "I understand. It won't be easy, but I'm still here, and you will be too." Maybe it wasn't the same loss; it probably wasn't. But there's a mutual and unconditional respect between people who know what it's like to be shaken. Some of the people who I'm convinced hung the sun are also the people who've crawled inch by inch out of the darkness. I'm humbled and honored to be surrounded by such relentless people. They're the ones who know that every rise of the sun is a blessing. That the extra two seconds you take out of your day to tell someone you love them is necessary. To not only take advantage of every opportunity, but to create their own. To experience life that's not on a screen. These people are the ones who inspire me. And while this language isn't one I ever planned to speak, I'm eternally grateful for the words it's added to my vocabulary.
-an unspoken language between people that inspire me
Comments