I heard this very beautiful song on the radio today. It's called Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
'Til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you
In the past when I heard songs like this, they were pleasant and I enjoyed them, but I didn't understand some of the complexities underlying them. Now, after going through a dark time in my life in which I experienced loss and confronted my own demons, life feels different, and interestingly this carries over to my experience of songs. I hear the longing in them now, the hope, the heartbreak, the pain. I understand more about humanity and the human experience now. And I 'm filled with gratitude.
You are loved. You are beautiful. You are worthy. You’re not perfect, but you’re not your mistakes. Perhaps you’ve made them. Big ones. But that’s okay. We all do. Forgive yourself and use it as the soil for growth, for compassion for yourself and compassion for others when they make mistakes.
I read somewhere that sometimes life involves two mountains. The first mountain is the one you start off in life climbing. You ascend it, thinking that this is what life is about — your career, money, stability, achievement, making your parents proud, worthiness, etc.
Know this — you are loved. You are worthy and beautiful in every way. You don’t have to be anyone other than who you are. You’ve made mistakes, just as we all have. You’ve said things you wish you could take back. You’re not perfect. But you’re none of these mistakes.
There is a light inside you. Let it grow and shine. Sometimes it’s long forgotten. We haven’t connected with it given the busyness of our days. Other times, we have allowed the world to tell us that it is not there and never was.
It’s strange how time passes — how after the unthinkable occurs, life goes on. The sun rises and falls. Flowers bloom. Trees rustle in the wind. There is an eeriness to it and in the beginning it is tempting to stay lost in this space.
There is a light within you. No darkness can overcome it. Sometimes this light is loud and vibrant. Other times such as in places of grief and loss, it is quiet — silent almost. A thread.
It’s different for everyone, but for me, grief was like walking through the valley of a shadow of death: a place where I walked and walked with seemingly no hope — just darkness and shadows and the faintest of light.
I never thought much of dreams until last year when I had one with Brian in it.
It had been a year since I had last seen him. And though he had since remarried and moved on with his life, it didn’t change the fact that he had been such a large part of mine. The loss was hard on me. I felt it each day.
Bipolar can be such a devastating illness. It can be a difficult monster to defeat. It is deceptively beautiful at times. Thoughts come so fast that they overwhelm you. Emotions are so beautiful you are moved to tears. Creativity abounds and you’re filled with confidence.