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baby blue

Each experience we have brings a greater depth into who we are.

You can’t go back; you can’t change things. This is who you are now. Something happened, you want to go back; you can’t.

It’s a forever kind of feeling, being lost. Drawn to something, better yet, someone you can no longer have. Your sense of self, slipping helplessly right through your fingers.

They say it takes time, but also, acceptance. I think acceptance is the only thing that dilutes the weary feeling of time.

I used to think forever was a possibility, but I’m very often humbled in my wake. People come and go, whether on your terms or theirs. Sometimes abruptly and tragic, but most of the time there are no words, they slowly pull back without a whisper, and you feel just a little more loss with each day that passes.


A dull, very grey day. One to which you restlessly remain inside. Stuck. It takes a humongous shift, one that shakes the very ground you’ve stabilized yourself to, in order to see color again. To feel promise.

Growing up, the color blue was “sad” to me. I discovered through further exploration that blue has been associated with peaceful rest, profound insight, and spiritual realization.


Blue were the eyes of my father, who told me I was a good mother, woman, person, and loved one, making me feel whole again.


Blue is the color of a gift my friend gave me, when she often reminded me that I am indeed, enough.

Blue is the sky to which my soul wanders, searching for a greater explanation for my peaceful solitude.

More importantly, blue is the color I saw when I started looking up.

Make no mistake, the journey to perspicacity has not always been as delightful as it may have seemed from an observer‘s point of view. It took me a long time to see what I was neglecting.

We often grieve the loss of others, when the biggest challenge is grieving the loss of a former version of ourselves. Whether abruptly and tragic, or slowly over time, you can feel the indifference taking over as you refuse your now altered self, attempting to return to normal. However, if we can learn to accept and embrace the newer versions of ourselves over time, maybe life wouldn't be as difficult.


There will always be fragments of our past ingrained in our habits, reactions, decisions, etc., but with every day we choose to learn, we also choose to let go of another piece. Letting go isn't always a bad thing, sometimes letting go is the fine line between living and existing.


Try looking up; I wonder if you see the same baby blue that I do.




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