Sometimes Tragedy Can Grow Wings

Today marks seven years since I had the most awful conversation of my life, setting off a chain reaction of explosive dialogues and realizations so painful, I had very strong, very real doubts that I would survive.  I did. Time will never heal these wounds.  But the distance has turned this day from the anniversary of the day life as I knew it died, into a day of reflection upon the birth of my self-awareness.

Time won't heal the caterpillar's wounds. They serve as a reminder of the price of her flight.

Time won’t heal the caterpillar’s wounds. They serve as a reminder of the price of her flight.

I will always carry its scars and many of my wounds will forever remain open.  It is my choice to focus on the broken cocoon that held me captive for decades or concentrate on the metamorphosis and take flight.

Today I will fly…

Namaste.

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