Clearing the Heavy and Subtle Layers of Sadness
It is safe to soak in the goodness of your life.
Why is it that everything good in my life seems to also come with sadness… something to worry about, something to lose… something bittersweet.
The more I want to soak in these precious moments, the more I’m afraid of them slipping away…
Time feels like it’s speeding up, and the moments pass by before I realize I didn’t fully soak them in.
What a precious time in my life. I’m getting married in three months, we’re planning our honeymoon… dreaming of adventures, babies, and our lives together. And yet, with all the reasons to be joyous, I also find myself more aware of the twinge of sadness underneath… it is the old debris of heaviness accumulated over a lifetime that I have not fully faced — the overthinking, worrying part of me.
Yes, there is more joy, peace, and buoyancy… more presence and relaxation, all of this and more that I’ve put effort into cultivating. And so, the lingering sadness that remains, the echoes of my past self, stand out like a sore thumb… an unwelcome visitor who has made themselves at home for far too long.
I want to fully embrace the goodness of my life. Because here it is, here it has always been, all along — the goodness of this present moment. And the next, and the next.
It is safe to soak in the goodness of your life.
It is safe to let it in.
It is safe to just be here, without worrying about “What if,” or “What’s next?”
Your heart has expanded to feel more. And so, with more joy, there is a capacity to feel more sadness — to truly feel it, see it, sit with it, and comfort it — instead of pushing it down. There is just more to feel, of everything. And that is not a bad thing.
This post was inspired by a random moment when I found myself crying my eyes out because I love my dog so much and felt sad and anxious to leave him again for our wedding and honeymoon — though he’ll be with his favorite fur-friend and carers.
I know it’s not a big deal, and there are hundreds of other things I can (and do) cry about, but this aching softness in my heart just wanted to be acknowledged. Usually, I wouldn’t even register this feeling as ‘sadness,’ but once I gave it some attention, the tears came through. Everything is wanting to be felt and seen — both the truly heavy, and the subtle.
And often, there is something deeper to be seen, than the surface thing you’re crying about.
For me, the sadness came from the feelings of guilt and worry that I was being a bad (dog) mom, that I should do “more” to make him happy… take him out to play more with other dogs (though while it’s winter and rainy here in Australia, it’s a bit harder)… And maybe this debris needed to be seen and cleared, because it will for sure come up again (and again) when I have children.
Written with love,
Ashmi