Today has been tiring. Nothing overly difficult or unusual, but draining none the less.

It’s like the floodgates had opened up, 

and people and problems continued to pour in.

I felt like a river bed, gouged down by the persistence of water, wearing me down over time. By the last set of troubles I felt my eyes burning with exhaustion.

I’ve never thought of myself as an introvert or an empathy but the last few months

 full of loss after loss 

have made me feel older, 

sadder but none the wiser. 

I’m fighting a losing battle right now and I know it. The inevitable happens, no matter how much we try to close the door on it.

Mortality.

It’s beautiful and tragic.

I’ve started to feel anxious for no reason in the middle of a normal day, where nothing has been stressful. Then suddenly that feeling will disappear, as swiftly and randomly as it arose.

I find out the next day or the day after that someone else I know has passed,

 expectedly or not it doesn’t seem to matter.

We are all joined, we come from somewhere and when we die we return back, to energy of one sort or another. 

Is it this energy I feel when I am restless and uncertain?  

Is that why I have trouble distancing myself? Is this why the struggles of those I see weigh so heavy on my shoulders?

It’s the end of the day and I have walked out into the bright sunshine, happy with my family surrounding me,

 and I ponder the meaning of life.

I think in order to truly value these moments, 

where I watch my kids play together in the golden evening light with wonder at their innocence,

We must suffer through loss and feel the darkness.

Because only then can we shine with the radiance of life