How often are those moments that clear the way for everything that comes after? The moments when if you had misunderstood, you no longer do.
I don’t know that those moments are good, and at the time, they likely don’t feel ‘good’ since they can often come as a clear indication of how things are, what matters and whether you matter to someone else. They come with directions for what to do with what remains.
This morning, I was forwarded an obituary (Obituary for a Quiet Life – The Bitter Southerner) and it was a read that reached deep into my soul, such that I wanted to share it. And there, the turning point. In attempting to read it, I received a barrage of questions about the cost of obituaries, etc., until I gave up on the possibility of finishing the read.
My point was never with the cost of the obituary, but it quickly became something else. It became a crystal-clear indicator that the person I was reading to had no interest in listening; and further, of greater significance, no interest in the fact that it mattered to me.
It is the moment when you realize what you’ve been dancing all around something for several years; the moment when you realize that the life you are living isn’t the life you want to die with.
It’s the moment when you realize that all the physical appearances of a good life are irrelevant to what is stored with the heart, what is carried within the soul. If missing, it will never be the regret you take to your grave.
It makes you want to move the bed, break all the dishes, and throw away ten years of accumulated greeting cards, nail polish and half used bottles of lotion.
Nothing matters. Everything matters. You can get there from here, now that you fully realize (if you hadn’t already) that here isn’t the place where you want to finish your story.