As I go through this journey called life, the “me” that I thought was “me” dies bit by bit every day.
In fact there is the glimmer of an understanding that this is what was meant to happen all along.
If the “me” that I thought was ” me ” had known this was inevitable, Im not sure that this ” me ” would have come in so willingly.
When I was younger, my mom would take me for movies without telling me that the main characters died in the end because she knew I would not go to see the movie if she told me.
My heart could not take the heartbreak of what was ‘ lost forever ‘
The beauty in ” my ” dying, bit by bit, is that, as the ” me” that I thought was” me” dies….it no longer feels as tragic.
There is a gradual acceptance and even mild curiosity at the prospect of allowing this death….to see what then remains or emerges.