Today I'm kinda out of words

I had been writing a good bit of late. . .

And suddenly, I didn't want to. I felt more like I should be a person of action and not just all "write" but I think morein it had to do with sticking my head in the sand.

I'm not usually a fan of "the ostrich" method of dealing . . . but it's felt right for the past couple of weeks. "Don't ask, don't tell." Only I can't get away with that 100% because I belong to a theraputic writer's group and I have to tell. We wrote about Eternity the other day. That was the assignment. Someone pulled the word "Eternity" out of a jar and we wrote for five minutes. Here's what I had to day:

There is no eternity. NOTHING is forever. There is only today. Today and the hope of tomorrow. Eternity is too optimistic for me. I can't believe in it anymore. The road does not go that far, even the miles beyond my view, at a certain point cease to exist. Eternity is for those who dream and fail to embrace that ALL things end. Everything comes to a logical conclusion. There is a beginning and an end--even in a circle. I hope someday to wear that mystical ring, but maybe I will have the Priest skip that part--because right now, the truest thing in my world is that nothing lasts forever.

And isn't it selfish to want it to? Aren't we often better about honoring the memories of things we've lost than we are about investing time in that which we have?

Most everyone else wrote about epherial things, Heaven, the hope, God's love. Why I took it to a darker place I have no idea. But I'm glad I was honest with myself. I don't whip out what I think people want to hear, after all part of the group is supposed to be "therapy" right?

Ugh. Without ruining the confidentiality of anyone in the group there was someone there who'd lost their mate and house recently. After surviving cancer. It was like: "Here you go, OOPS, no, be alone!" I guess her friends haven't been supportive either. I felt horrible for her. Here you are in a place where it's "about me" and it isn't. . . it's about a group, and a person, and not you, and offering some comfort to someone else. Only I have no words. I have no similar experience. I can't even offer a medication suggestion (which I often do in my young women's group. LOL.) All I can do is nod empathetically and try not to start crying. Not because I didn't want to join her in her tears, just because I was afraid I wouldn't stop crying. It's kind of a luxury to let yourself. I do "push the steam valve" for myself sometimes, but I try not to wallow. It's a fine line.

I need I think, to go back to my attitude of grattitude and just be thankful for everything. Of course that's going to kind of ruin my "being mad at cancer" this go-around. Don't get me wrong, I will NEVER be one of those people who sees their DX as a blessing. But I can take my days here on earth as them.