Monday, October 27, 2014

The truth about saltwater

I do honestly believe that saltwater is one of the most healing substances on the planet. Most of the time, I get to make it myself - tears, or sweat. And while I prefer the seagoing kind, seawater is not readily accessible to me, so I'll cry and sweat because A) it's free and B) I can have it anywhere.

And lately, I've had a lot of great stuff going on. Reasons to cry out of sheer joy. I've settled into my new little home, gotten into a lovely groove, and made it home to visit family twice in four weeks. New beginnings are always emotional, and this one has been coming for two years. And yes, lots of tears - not to mention sweat - went into this one. I'm feeling at home in my space and in my heart, and it's really quite something.

Endings, though ... before there can be a new beginning, there has to be an ending, and I'm going through some of those, too. Left my sister's house in order to have a new-to-me home, and that's just the beginning. Bade farewell to my Aurora roots (again) to head back to the place that feels like home to me, but leaving home in order to get there. Work friends moving on to new opportunities ... friends moving on to new locales ... it can bring a sort of exhilaration, but I will admit the literal moving on is somehow easier to take than the emotional moving on, though. When a relationship takes a turn - when people emotionally move on - that can sting. And when something hurts, the best advice I can give you for what to do with me is this:

Guide me to saltwater.

Allow me to have a good cry. Put me through a workout that makes me sweat buckets. Double-super bonus points if I cry while working out. (This happens in yoga more often than I care to admit.) In times of transition, emotions run high. And this girl tends to heal via salt.

I've learned over time that crying does not make you weak. The people who love me? Yeah. Every one of them has seen me cry. They wouldn't call me weak. (This could be because most of them have also seen me sweat, and trust me ... there is nothing weak when it comes to that.) And sure, there was a time when I was girly enough to not want people to see me at my dirty sweaty worst, because hey, that's not feminine and that's not attractive.

Except for it is. It's authentic and alive and dirty gross reality, and there's no way that's not gorgeous. The people who love me, love me sweaty and crying, covered in dirt and crusted with salt.

And maybe that's the truth about saltwater. It's not the substance itself that heals you, but the people who share it with you. The ones who love you through the sweat, the grit, the tears. The ones who refuse to judge you, even in those moments when you cry at the drop of a hat, or those moments when, frankly, you smell so bad it's hard to believe anyone can manage to hang by your side. The healing may start with the salt ... but you're made whole again by those who stick around long enough for you to heal.

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