From dirtbag to tourist: processing thoughts in a café
So many feelings coming up for me being back on the rugged coast of Vancouver Island, BC.
Here I sit in a busy café while on a mini-honeymoon with my husband and all I want to do is cry. I want to cry for the pain that keeps me from sight seeing, from walking the majestic trails, from enjoying simply sitting in a restaurant or café that has uncomfortable chairs, from wanting to make love with my husband for fear of a flare-up in my hips and back…
Memories from the past are making me compare what I was doing then to what I am doing now. I find myself playing the role of tourist, going into galleries and sitting in restaurants, as opposed to the dirtbag traveller I once was, adventuring outdoors and eating out of the trunk of my car.
I’m seeing the two images of myself as separate, what was and what is. It’s bringing about feelings of loss and grief.
I miss her. I miss her energy. I miss her strength.
I don’t think I was prepared for this confrontation with my past. I want to welcome it with open arms, to notice the feelings. I’d like to merge these parts of myself together into a new fusion dish of sorts. I want to still feel valuable and worthy even though I cannot “do” all the things I used to expect from my body. I want to honour her spirit, to keep it alive for the life that’s left to live.
The tears are streaming down my cheeks as I write. I wipe them away before anyone take notice or gets worried about the girl in the corner. The tears are medicine, helping me to externalize the turmoil from inside. Thanks for helping me cry. I needed that.
Life throws hardballs, and thank goodness you were able to experience it as strong and capable as you once we’re. We all experience degradation in our bodies as we grow older, and we all have to watch our former self fade in the distance. I too was always a very strong capable individual, and even though my chronic pain is not as pronounced and prevalent as yours I feel pain at all times. I joke these days that pain is proof of existence, and I know that reality is going to be more true the older I get. The here and now exists, and that is all. your memories are gifts, treat them like such, experience them as deep as you can, cry at them, wrap your self in them, leave them behind, put them in your face, feel everything you can in even a moment of sorrow and allow yourself to continue to grow.
Beautifully said Greg, thank you. As I moved through my past on this trip I found myself making new memories. I was able to see things from new angles, and enjoy things that I’d never noticed before because I was doing things at such a fast pace. Although it is hard to say no to things I used to enjoy, it’s also been wonderful to say yes to new things that I used to pass by.
Dear Samantha, my heart is with you when I hear your pain. Please remember that this is a state of flux and you will ultimately be better for the emotional journey.