My Space, My Release

Lately, I've been running a lot.

Running to clear my head.
Running to process the layers of transition in my life.
Running to say good-bye.
Running to be brave in chasing my dreams.
Running to embrace the faith that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
Running to feel alive and connected to the natural, beautiful world.
Running to feel the air in my lungs.
Running to savor the last chill in the air before the change in seasons.
Running to lift my spirits.
Running to start anew.

Running.


So, with all of the running comes the increased desire to find new music that makes running that much more motivating and pleasurable time for me.  Music is a great way to move through emotions, experience a release and find comfort.  I like a mix of sad, angry and happy.  These are the songs that have been on repeat on some of my runs, both in letting go and in turning towards a better future.

Then a friend posted a song in her blog that I think I may need to add to my running mix.  Somehow it seems to capture everything by starting sad, but then the music seeming to slowly progress into building towards hope.  The words are of loss and good-bye, but the melody seems to carry a tone of moving forward.

Virtual Sanity

Over the last few weeks, I have been grieving the end of my relationship with RJ. I have come to accept that it is over, and with it comes a sadness in realizing the separation and that we are no longer apart of each other's life. So much has happened in my life that RJ would not know the slightest, and the same for me with his life.

It really hit home when I noticed that RJ changed his Facebook profile picture. He always had the same one, a picture of him with a friend. Now it is of him in one of his favorite places in the woods. Then there were a few postings on his page that had not been there before when we were together. And I looked back onto my page and saw the things posted on it since we broke up. It was a visual representation of the distance and space over time that comes between two people when a relationship ends. My friend, Emily, said it is almost like a drawing with the perspective of something tiny fading into the horizon. It makes me feel sad. But, it is a good thing, and it is part of the process of moving forward and healing. Time. Distance. Space. (Sounds like a math or physics problem.)

Then I had a conversation with another friend, Julie, about pictures on Facebook. Slowly, I have been deleting the photos with RJ (Sidenote: He also has not untagged himself either.). It has been difficult for me--not in the sense of wanting him back, but more along the lines of not wanting to erase me. The time we spent together meant something, and I am not trying to wipe it all away like it did not happen. My friend said she understood. Then she commented that I have probably taken down the photos of him in my apartment, which is true. She likened the photo albums on Facebook to the photos you keep on your bed stand, mantel or refrigerator. Facebook is kind of like a virtual version of those same spaces in your home. I liked that. It makes it a little easier to continue taking down those pictures. It is kind of like rearranging the furniture.

Maybe next weekend I'll do a little spring cleaning on my Facebook page. Right now I have to do some work at home. And it is supposed to snow tomorrow?! So, who wants to do spring cleaning when there is snow around? :P I'll get to it, soon enough.