Everything Is Everything

Three weeks ago this would have been unfathomable. Kristine is now sleeping through the night, no nightmares, no insomnia. Showering daily, making meals for herself, actually eating them. Gone are the soggy half-finished bowls of cereal sitting stagnant in the sink. If she never sees another bag of tortilla chips again she'll be a ok. He called and all of the sudden all that anger and bitterness, the reams of sadness and depression went away, disappeared into the ether. Then- and this is the best part- she stopped caring. About any of it. She let the calls go to voicemail. Days would pass before returning his message and even then, she was brief and to the point. Things had shifted. Kristine didn't know how or when exactly but the letting go had taken hold. Cravings for real food and social contact flooded her nervous system. A familiar desire to get up every day and make stuff happen had reappeared. For once, there was no second guessing. She even weighed herself at the gym, convinced this weightlessness would translate into a tangible result. How heavy is grief? What does rejection and betrayal weigh? Better yet, how freeing is letting it all go? Kristine shifted her paradigm, unbeknownst to her, sometime between falling apart and standing on her toes while reaching toward the sky. Attach to nothing, accept everything, everything is everything.