Lips brushed gently against my ear. It was like the soft caress of a warm wind. A shiver descended my spine. I anchored my bare feet into the brown panels of cold wooden floor. The room was empty, and yet, I wasn’t alone. I knew those lips. I knew that wind, and I knew that the swell was nearly upon me.
“You’ve returned.” I mouthed in wordless welcome.
“Yes. I’ve returned.” She whispered.
“Again?” My eyes spoke.
“Again.” She replied.
I bowed my head in calm acceptance. The urge to fight - to run, to protest, to demand a reason for her intrusion – rose instinctively inside of me. I let the urge rise, I let it morph into anger, and I let rage color me blind, enjoying for a moment, the freedom of sightlessness.
Still, I felt her. I opened my eyes.
“Yes, I'm here.” She answered.
Unyielding and inescapable, she remained.
I had no choice. I let the rage reach its crescendo, and then, I watched it fall, and with it, my body crumbled to the cold floor. My forehead came to rest upon the earth, my hands clasped gently together in prayer. With heaving sobs, I surrendered myself to her, to the flood of emotion, and the swell of truth.
I’ve run away from Sadness my entire life. I've pretended she wasn’t there. I've ignored her whispers. I’ve fought her with anger, achievement, excuses and fear. The hardest, and perhaps most beautiful thing I’ve ever done in my life, is I've learned, well I am learning, how to accept Sadness. She comes as a teacher, with a kind, compassionate voice, offering presence, and an opportunity to flow into a vast new ocean. If only I am courageous enough to listen, to heed her wisdom. For like all great teachers, when the lesson is learned, the teacher fades away.