Due to multiple reasons… flight prices, uncertain schedules, and opportunities, I spent yesterday evening wandering around Old San Juan by myself.
I don’t know if it’s the air or the wood beams, but I have never been in a place that reminds me so much of my travels with Shah along the Turkish Mediterranean
I kept expecting to break down in heaving sobs, but instead I felt the least pain I have felt in two and a half years. Even in times of great joy there is always pain, and only numbing dulls that pain. But yesterday, with no distractions, completely alert to the memories and the loss, I felt no pain. Maybe it’s the sun, maybe it’s the colors, maybe it’s grace. Most importantly, it was a restful break. It wasn’t a rush of joy. It was a moment of peace.
Today I could cry again, and I’m more confused about yesterday than anything. But I’m holding on as a sign of hope. Healing comes.
My heart needed that rest. Beauty soothes the ache.