Time. That elusive element that can drag out for what seems like an eternity or pass in a split moment. The one thing that is both a constant and ephemeral, often at the same time. It seems to go hand in hand with change, a thing that I have never quite been able to grasp nor to become adept at handling. While change isn’t necessarily a bad thing, often a good thing even, it is still unyielding in it’s power to overtake my life. Change, like the passing of time, is inevitable. There is no miracle that can erase those things that make my life better or worse and there is no magic that can bring back a moment that has passed. Having a memory of something that has happened or that has been at one point is not the same thing as having that moment to live all over again. Each time a memory is revisited, it changes slightly, taking on the gleam of what I would have it to be, whether it is better or worse than I remembered the last time I visited it. There are even those memories that seem to be inherited, those that don’t really belong to me and yet they are in my mind and my heart as though they were mine all along. My brain, heart, spirit and soul have been strained to the breaking point at times and when that happens, it feels as though any chance of a normal life cannot be possible. Life then takes on a dream-like quality that is somewhere between reality and fantasy. There are times when I hope to stay awake forever so that dreams cannot blur the reality that I strive to hold onto. I dream in color and am often in the midst of violence and blood, neither of which I am fond of on any level. Of late, my dreams have veered down an entirely different vein and it remains to be seen what will come of them. I don’t put any stock in dreams, not in the way that some folks do in thinking that they mean anything in particular. They are outlets that allow my body and mind to be free and clear of everything while taking a journey into fascinating, though often frightening, places. I know that I am not alone in this statement. I have friends that have dreams that make mine seem innocent and juvenile in comparison and I can only nod and appreciate that I have not yet crossed into that particular realm. Time seems to have no bearing on dreams and rarely factors into them. Over the past couple of years, I have spoken with many people about their dreams. Their dreams are often perpetuated by time and change and revolve around loss and death of people or others, whether it was natural or tragic, that they loved. Each person has said that they have had many, many dreams of those they are missing and I can’t help but feel blessed in some way that my dreams have never crossed that threshold. I have not dreamed of my husband, not once, since he passed over two years ago. I have not dreamed of my grandparents though my grandmothers, both of them, were a defining force in my life. I have not dreamt of friends that have died nor of pets that I cherished. While on one hand, I feel that I have been cheated out of revisiting those that I loved, on the other, I am glad that I have not had those moments between sleep and wakefulness, that place that holds me captive until I can awaken and have only the foggy memory of something happening. I am glad that my nights are not plagued with actual loss and torment, though my days often are. There are days and days that have no significance whatsoever, and then suddenly, out of the shadows, time passes and a moment that meant so much is upon me and I feel as though I am dying myself. I have wished to die. Maybe it is a fallacy to believe that everyone has a moment here and there when the burdens of life become so heavy that death seems like the obvious solution. It is not the solution, not to anything, at least not by my own hand, but there have been times when it weighed into the equation. As I’ve gotten older, more experienced and possibly even wiser, those thoughts don’t enter into my mind. It is irresponsible to believe such dwellings and above all things, I do not want to be irresponsible. Ok, that’s a lie, I do want to be irresponsible and completely carefree and irrational, but reality keeps me tethered whether I like it that way or not. I have found myself, at times of great despair, praying for faith, but praying for faith is like spitting in the wind. In order for prayer to do any good, faith must come first, for if I have no faith in whom to which I pray, then I have wasted my time. I do have faith. I have faith in an awesome God that has taken me through valleys that I would never have believed I could have lived through. I came out bruised and battle-scarred, but not broken. I have been close to being broken, but never to the point of no return. That is one of the mysteries of time. It can heal or it can destroy, depending on what I decide to do with the circumstances that are given me. So whether it be time or change or dreams that I cannot control, when the day dawns and I awake, I am thankful for all I have learned. I’m a bit apprehensive about the lessons yet to learn, but those valleys are not my concern at the moment, and when I travel through them, I will not be alone. And neither will those who will read these words and hopefully, find some kind of comfort in knowing that the thoughts of time and change and dreams are shared by many, that they are not alone in their journey through the darkest times they will ever face. I am not so gullible as to think that there will not be more darkness in my life, but with each trial, I find that I am stronger and more able to face that which will come. That is the beauty of the mystery of time … it really does, if allowed to pass, heal and restore our minds and hearts to a place that is bearable, a place in which we become not those who are discouraged by life, but are able to encourage because of it. I like to think that because I have been there, I can encourage others who are there now, wherever that place may be. So be encouraged my friends, and know that irregardless of what is in the here and now, tomorrow is another day and there will eventually be joy in the morning.
Romans 8:38-39 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
A Photographer's Heart 