As tears are flooding my eyes, it all gets blurry, like a wet watercolour painting of the city.
Traffic in le Quartier européen de Bruxelles is crowded at this hour, so we are advancing very slowly on the narrow and dusty boulevard.
My children are listening to a theatre play at the back. It’s a special day and we’re going to buy a cake.
My spine pushed against the seat feels so vertical and infinite, as I am no longer trying to do anything. I just am.
I let out no sound. I can feel the warmth of my tears rolling down my cheeks and I can almost hear them landing on the linen of my dress, which gratefully receives them all.
My God, I think, please hold me through this.
I look to my right. Through the thin veil of my tears, I can see the door of a ground floor apartment. It’s wide open onto the side walk. I look in. A small, white-haired lady is sitting in a big armchair. Her hands resting in her lap. She can see me.
My God, I think, please hold me through this.
And I suddenly hear myself sigh.
I wonder which part of my soul has just been liberated into this crazy city.
And will she ever return?
When we go through painful or shocking situations, we sometimes leave parts of ourselves behind. It helps to take the time to witness them and to call them back into wholeness.
To love them back into unity.
Which part of your self are you calling back into wholeness today?
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