Where does the sadness go when it lifts away from my chest. When the heaviness is gone?

It felt giant. Total.

I realize it’s gone after days of it actually being gone. It being gone and realizing it’s gone are two totally unrelated things.

I look around for it.

I wonder what I specifically did for it to vacate. I’d like to do that more. Hold on tighter.  I never find the source.

This pendulum just swings back and forth and it seems only thru new behavior, repeated, I get to expand the time it stays in one spot.

I’m starting to recognize what it takes and I’m past starting to be willing to put in the work.

I feel like I’m a small orchard. Planted, watered. Sun and cultivation. I didn’t produce any harvest that first year or more.

One day a small grape emerged, then another.  I feel like I’m beginning to taste the grapes. They aren’t sweet yet. But they exist.

I’m am emerging. Sometimes because I really am and sometimes because I tell myself I am. Both exactly the same.

So where does the sadness go? I want to know so that I don’t visit it unexpectedly.

I want to know because part of me questions how real it could have been in the first place when it abandons me so irreverently.

I want to know because I can see for sure that the sadness made me sow the seeds that delivered this new but real harvest and I feel somehow indebted.




  • Julia

    On sadness; mine is circular. My sadness sets when gratitude rises. Like a moon rising to catch the sun. So constant. Did we miss it? The ebb and flow. So quickly they pass by our so busy minds.

    Is any night really darker and day longer? Or is the sun playing hard to get. Oh it’s in my eyes; I see it. Oh; it’s just the moon again. The big moon. I remember it was smaller when I was younger. The moon. The big and beautiful moon. Goodnight sadness.