A word of which I’ve never uttered rolled off my tongue today. It has the velvety texture of a white chocolate covered strawberry and sounds as pure as a bell. It is quite indulgent, decadent even. The word is sabbatical.
I knew the meaning of what I spoke almost instinctively. The ability to ease my car to the side of the interstate of life and trek into the woods, with only my curiosity leading the way. To listen to the sound of the leaves crunching under my feet and to hear the sound of the wind blowing in the tops of the trees above my head. The goal is to slow down and take stock of where I’ve been. To accept what has happened, acknowledge the hurt, define what I’ve learned from it all…and move on. This chapter only seems tragic. I recognize that I have in my possession a gift few have ever had the privilege of knowing. To let this gift go to waste would be the true tragedy.