The war had ended, and I found myself a prisoner in those foreign lands. I could hear the winds blowing over the sea as I sat bound in my cell. They called my name, bid me escape.

I worked up all the courage I could find, pressed through the panic, waded through the sweat and tears, allowed my failing heart a chance to burn, burn enough to ignite the dynamite in me and burst through the bars I had built with my own choices.

I lay there in shock and turned to look up at the sky.

Breathe.
Breathe.
I’m free.

I let it sink in, listening to the wind. I felt myself and my heart unite for the first time in many years.
I saw shapes in the clouds again. I noticed the blueness of the sky. I breathed deeply and tasted the salt air.

Sometimes we must pass through death to break free. We see what must be done and our mind screams against us.
“Don’t do it! This is a mad death. This is insanity!”
I had already died. A thousand times. And while my soul would die, my body refused. It grew weary, walking around empty and alone, having become estranged to me. By slow increments my inner death threatened my outer life.
And then I had enough. I stoked the embers in me and a tiny spark emerged. I fanned what remained and it began to burn.
With trembling hands and heart, I faced my greatest fears and broke through.

I still had adrenaline pumping through me – fear and anxiety lay in me like debris.

What if your dreams become reality? You look right at them, unable to believe it’s real. You had resigned yourself long ago to never having this yourself, and yet, here it is. But the fear and trauma cast their shadow over it.

Anyone lesser would have fled, but she told me to take my time and heal, and then walked away to give me that time.
“I’ll be waiting on the other side of the sea.”
I knew it wasn’t the same as fleeing.

I’ll be the first to admit, my soul reeled. I reached out, asked her to stay. She knew this was work I had to do alone. It exposed things in me I thought I had overcome long ago; Shone a spot light into the hidden corners of my soul. While she was there I would stay and work to keep her. By stepping away, I was forced – I had to work to keep me. I had to embark on my journey.
“Don’t do it for me. Do it for you,” she said.

I’ve learned some things along the way.
What you hold on to, you lose.
What you fear from your past sabotages your present.

Don’t ignore your fears or your pain – lean into them. Face them head on, sit with them, visit with them, ask them to take you to their source. Meet yourself there, whether the source is a memory or a lie… meet yourself there, embrace yourself, have compassion on yourself. Then challenge the lie and tell yourself truth.

Ignore or repress fear or pain and it turns into suffering. Lean into the suffering, because suffering ignored or repressed eventually spills out onto those you love.

Embrace grief. Grief is how you face, lean into, process, and integrate loss and suffering. Welcome new grief for old things. It’s a kind reminder by yourself that there is more to integrate there.

Love is about giving to the other. Love does not grasp the other – rather, it frees. You cannot do this until you are able to hold them with an open hand. You can’t hold them with an open hand until you are willing to lose them. You won’t be willing to lose them until you find love and life in yourself, apart from anyone else. By letting go of everything, you gain whatever chooses to remain – and would you really want it any other way?

This doesn’t mean we can’t delight in and enjoy the things that come with love: desire, passion, connection, emotions, need, longing, challenge, growth, catalyst, and so on. It means that we hold all of these with an open hand as well. Enjoying them, diving deeply into them, and being grateful for them in the moments they come to us, but knowing that all things are transient, and you’ll always love and admire the other regardless. Even if they leave or the relationship ends.