Not only is this my first blog post of 2022 but my first time writing in nine months. With that being said, I have to rejoice that I made it through some tough times. 2021 w
isn’t the worst, but due to the year of Coronavirus in 2020, I was forced to sit in my dark pit refusing to dig my way up and out while the earth beneath me collapsed as life tosses from the pile of dirt that created my pit.
I was deep in despair down in my darkness of the earth with enough tears to water countless fields and just enough sun shining in from high above. It was the perfect place for what was to come.
Endless nights of self inflected torment that scary movies couldn’t compete with. I found myself digging deeper so that the morning sun could not rescue me.
The bright beams of the radiant sun proved that they were only to blame. My hands and nails unearth my shame.
Little did I know there was life in the mounds of dirt in search of a place to grow. It was just my luck. I grew tired of clawing my way out, or else the seed would have fallen to the wayside, choked off, and died.
I laid in what was to be my pit of hell, the death of me, but low and behold; it was a place of preparation, restoration, reflection, and rebirth of self.
Years of hiding in my own misery were for a soulful purpose that came from a bit of seed hidden within the dirt meant to end me. The doom that consumed me allowed me to find myself.