The missing was more potent today.
Filling me up;
Not to overflowing – like a container that does not flex – No, it filled me up like water fills a balloon – until you think it will burst.
My soul continued to expand until the ache consumed me completely – an invisible force pressing against my chest and radiating outward through my being – rendering me almost motionless.
Certainly I was powerless to resist it, and could not grasp the emotion to remove it. It was like water. You cannot close your hand around it, and even if you dipped a vessel in to remove it, more would just spill into its place.
As I experienced the ache that brought tears to my eyes, It occurred to me that something within me might burst, and I thought: “This is like the ocean’s tide; A seemingly quiet and gentle thing, yet a powerful thing. Powerful enough to leave its impression on stone.”.
Ocean water surges forward, making its presence known, then ebbs away depositing gifts from its depths upon the sand, but it is never completely gone. It is always there…
And so is the missing.
If you can spare a moment, imagine…
A cave on the water; Beautiful. Quiet. Reflections of the ocean turn the walls into magical shimmering things. The cave itself, echos the faint sound of water in motion…
to those whose spirits know the voice; “Come. Explore my depths, discover hidden passages, unearth the treasure that lies within me, search out the treasure that »is« me.”
That is the human soul; A living cave that is indeed magical, and does indeed shimmer – full of hidden passageways, rich with treasure, a delight to explore, an honor to ‘know’, and it too echos the voice of the only thing on earth that can consume it.
To those who listen …
“Come to me…”
The cave upon the ocean is filled with the tide like our souls can be filled with that aching emotion of missing someone.
The tide comes in slowly in ebbs and flows. It washes in gradually and the cave is powerless to do anything – only receive it.
The surging ocean fills each corner – each crevice – without permission; invading every indentation.
The seemingly unyielding walls do yield – the water gently carves out places for itself where at first there were none…
Cave belongs to the ocean, and Ocean belongs to it.
For a time they are connected and are one, each a part of the other – no force on the earth able to separate water from walls nor walls from water.
Water will leave its impression on cave, once it relents from pressing itself against her.
They are one and the same.
Stone and water, solid and liquid, the seemingly weaker substance causes the stronger to yield – and there it is.
As tide fills cave, so does missing fill soul, surging, surging, until man – containing both cave and tide within his delicate and fragile shell – can only sit in silence, tears cascading down his cheeks as he waits for it to subside.
And it does.
Beloved, I promise, it does.
The tide, without warning, relaxes its merciless pressure from the against the walls, gently slipping away – again in ebbs and flows.
The ocean carries bits of the cave’s rocky substance away, treasures to keep within its depths. But it has left its mark in every crevice. The cave is gently scarred and will reflect the image of its possessor until it returns.
They are one, even while apart, each one imparting bits of self to the other.
Cave belonging to Ocean, and Ocean belonging to Cave.
When that emotion fills you, allow it.
Allow it to run its course.
It is part of life.
It is a part of healing.
It is a part of recovering.
It aches less and less each time, Dear One.
Less and less, over time.