The Exquisitely Painful Joy of Being Alive

Joy and pain, always housemates in my soul. 

I have struggled in my past with trying to figure out who I am, sorting out my feelings and trying to make sense of it all. All of it jumbled up inside me. Not all fitting neatly together. Feelings at odds with each other. I couldn’t quite figure out which category I might fit into. And I felt defective somehow because of all of this.

Ah, the gifts of aging. I don’t have to fit into any category. 

I can have all the feelings, sometimes even at the same time.

I can be happy-sad, angry-grieving, irritated-amused, fearful-angry, anxious-determined, and many more.

It’s all ok.

Which means that I am ok.

Actually, I am much more than ok. I can finally say that and own it. I feel it all, and it all is a gift. Not to say that it all feels like a gift at that moment in time. But it is, nonetheless, a gift. I am alive. I get to feel things. I get to experience the range of emotions and experiences that this journey of being human brings with it. 

What an absolute delight and sorrow it is to be alive. 

And now, approaching the end of the road with much less of the road ahead of me than behind me, I can truly begin to appreciate it all more deeply. That seems to be part of being human, too. Realizing the worth of something as we get closer to no longer having it. 

I feel sad at the losses I have had. And grateful to have had these beings, two-legged and four-legged alike, in my life. 

I feel joy at sunrises and sunsets, with more poignant joy-grief at sunsets. I resonate more with sunsets these days.

I feel anger. And I feel gratitude for the parts of me that I can finally allow to speak up and say when something is not ok. I find it easier to say that I do not accept that behavior, or I do not accept those words toward me. Having swallowed so much for so long, it is a relief to stop. To set a boundary. To believe in my right to say no more. I can appreciate my anger. 

I feel rage at the pain, suffering, and injustice in this world, and grateful for the empathy to feel that. And for the ability to help in any small way that I can. With my actions, with my vote. 

I feel loneliness, and can also smile at the sweet remembrances of loves that I have been graced enough to have in my life. Smiles that others may not understand, but I know. I remember. I am grateful.

I feel wistful about life gone by. Regrets at what I could have perhaps done better. And I also feel compassion for having done what I knew how to do at the time. Self-forgiveness is a challenge for me, and one that I continue to work on. It does not help to continue to punish myself. I can try to do better. Or at the very least do no more harm. 

I can be angry and not have to cause harm to anyone. I can be sad and not have to cause harm to myself. 

I can be frustrated and live to see the resolution of things, or at least live to see another day.

I can feel love, and not have to be close to what or who it is that I feel that love for. I don’t have to possess, and can still love deeply. Maybe even more deeply. 

I am finally realizing, accepting, and even embracing all the different feelings inside me. The bittersweetness of life is reflected in my soul. I am all of it, sometimes all at the same time. And it is all ok. Finally.