Moments D468: Wounded Animal

In the wee hours of this morning, sitting in the fog of a day post-self-pity and self-flagellation I had a conversation that changed my life.

Sure.  I know how that sounds.  It sounds dramatic.  It sounds unbelievable.  Looking back, it feels like a dream, but I know, I KNOW, that it is real and I understand with more certainty than ever before just how beautiful digging deeper can be.  

The long and short of it is that this week wounded me.  I felt like a wounded animal, looking for a safe, dark place to hide while I heal.    Being wounded, I was off.  I had no light to shine and share.  I had no energy for laughter.  I wasn't my typically bubbly self.  And it was noticed.  My world noticed.

That in itself was a moment, because my world noticing pushed out extra love to me.  And for that I'm grateful.

More importantly, the man that I have fallen in love with noticed.  He shared ten small words packed with the protection of his love and light.   Packed.  Full.  My eyes instantly filled with tears when I read them.  A flood of intense, unexpected emotion ran through me in the brief moment that it took me to read these ten words. I realized, in a blink of an eye, that for the first time in my adult life, not only was I understood, I was being sheltered and given the space to do what I needed to do to heal.  It was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever experienced.  It's like that moment where pieces all snap into place perfectly without a fuss; or that moment where the clouds part and the full moon, in all her glory, lights up the darkness below; it is that clear moment where you know you have been changed.  They are simple words, but their depth is beyond measure.

Lick your wounds, love
I'm standing over you
I understand.

I will never forget these words.  Never before has the wounded animal in me been calmed as quickly and as succinctly.  In ten words, I was accepted as my wounded self (it was okay!), I was protected (safe to share, safe to cry, safe to sit in silence) and I was understood (I didn't need to further explain and/or justify my actions/inaction!).

And in my fog, I had a celebration.  One that filled me with a light that began to burn the fog away.   Before I knew it, I was laughing again.  I wasn't quite ready to sprinkle my joyful fairy dust around again, but I was feeling better.   (Neither was I pooping rainbows and glitter, but that's another story!)

Moments accepting that you are wounded.

Moments being accepted that you are licking your wounds.