The Evolution of Me

I stumbled upon my Facebook entry from a year ago.  I remarked that I began to feel quite human again for four days in a row.  That was April 25, 2013.  My remarks prompted me to revisit my blog so I can appreciate the progress I have made, and the evolution of myself.  

Apparently I made hummus a la Eric's recipe for the first time.  It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great.  It certainly didn't taste the same.  "What do you know; even garbanzo beans felt the void," I noted.  

I am grateful that I was able to express those vivid and raw sentiments so openly and honestly.  I think my ability to do so is a tremendous gift from the Universe. The way I express grief helped me evolve.  It continues to help me relentlessly focus on only the important things and my gratitude in my very charmed life, rather than Eric's death.  It was just so big to wrap my mind around the loss of a good man, my good man, in this world.

What a difference a year makes.  I feel very human.  Everyday.  I am acutely aware of Eric's absence AND presence in pretty much everything I do.  It is not a sad sentiment; rather, the awareness allows for a continuous evolution of my being.

I find that to allow myself to evolve, which is much more than to emerge from grief, gives me the courage to live All In with very little fear and reservation of the "what if's."  

My evolution gives me the courage to transform my living space from "our" home to "my" home.  It gives me room to uncover and develop my hidden talents.  It gives me the hunger to volunteer and serve at the Puget Sound Community School.  My friend Sieglinde asked why I continue to be involved in PSCS.  I think it's because PSCS brings out the best in me.  When I am at my best, I help others to bring out their best, to be at their best.  I feel strongly that "to help others to be at their best" has become my mission of my existence.  I am very grateful for my discovery.  

My evolution also opens windows and doors so I may enjoy a loving relationship with Ken, a very good, kind, generous man who, rightly so, thinks I am the best thing since sliced bread.  I feel fortunate that he also thinks I walk on water; I'll work on that, too.  More importantly, I feel peaceful and right.  And happy.  There is a loving sentiment of joy.

My evolution makes me face my passion, feed my hobbies, and refuse the myriad of excuses that are just that:  excuses.  To live in the present.  To not be attached to the outcome, but to go courageously into the journey itself.  All In.  Many would say "that's great, Daisy!  It's what Eric would have wanted you to do!"  That is wonderful.  But I think it's MORE wonderful and important that it is exactly what *Daisy* wants to do.  

I do know with certainty that Eric would say, as he always did, "very cool, babe. You have outdone yourself."