Step 1: cry.
whenever you need to. Become that girl who cries in public. Turn crying in
public into a fine art. Find new and creative way of weeping in front of
strangers. Alternatively become dishonest or isolate yourself.
Step 3: Savor the
truth. Even "no", especially when it stings, practice saying
"brokenhearted" or "hole in my chest" instead of
"fine". Never "fine"--retire that word from your vocabulary
for a while.
Step 4: Get
adequate exercise. Enjoy the best cardio of your life sobbing on you bicycle
passing mountain ranges that are too beautiful to describe. Keep going for
weeks and weeks until the signs disappear, until it’s just you and the sky,
until you don’t know where you are anymore.
Step 5: Reach out.
Let other people in. Let someone that you’ll probably never see again comfort
you with a steady haze and a warm grip on your shoulder while you bawl on the
phone to your mother in a crowded cafeteria.
Step 6: Repot
plants. Move furniture. Make your space new. Rip out the hard wood floors.
Plant a cherry blossom in the center of your bedroom.
Step 7: maintain
your regular routine. Show up to work to cry in the little back room nobody
ever goes in because the coffee there sucks.
Step 8: Meet
interesting people. Keep busy. Read War and Peace in one sitting.
Step 9: Get plenty
of rest. Or don’t. When loss carves cannons beneath your bed, sleep with
scraps. When sorrow flows into a bottomless pool by the bookcase, when you are
thirsty and wistful sinking deeper into midnight, drink up dawn.
Step 10: Know that
some great change is manifesting itself on the shape of your bones. Maintain
your inner strength, flex that spine and accept every dangerous gift life
throws your way. This is a piece of the meaning you will someday offer life.
No comments:
Post a Comment