Tonight, I watched a movie called Penguin Bloom about a woman
who was paralyzed after a nasty accident while on vacation in Thailand.
The film has many layers, but I found many parallels in my story.
Especially the inadequacies she felt in everything after the accident!
She struggled to reconnect with her children and husband;
she was frustrated, especially with her physical limitations.
She was mad, then felt guilty for being mad because she knew
she should feel grateful; she was alive, after all!!
She was frustrated at herself for being unkind to the kind people
in her life who were trying to help her heal,
then she felt terribly guilty for feeling unkind and, thus, ungrateful.
She hated always needing people to help her live.
Yes, yes, yes, I know!
I sat watching the movie with tears rolling down my face. It was so real!
At the end of the film,
there is a part where she learns to love and accept herself;
I, too, remember that moment in my recovery.
Of course, I will never be the same, but learning to accept change
and growth is what helped me move on.
I woke Christian, who was asleep next to me, and
in tears, I shared with him all of my overwhelming emotions.
He listened intently and comforted me with words of love.
But I realized that while our stories are equally important,
he didn't really want to share his feelings and experiences with me
again. He's done it before, and that was enough for him.
When I asked him why, he said his feelings were inside a box, safe and sound
where they would stay, and he didn't feel the need to bring
them out and talk about them.
I respect Christian's box, and I know there are incredible
experiences inside that I wish he'd talk more about, but
I know I can't open his box or anyone else's
especially when they are not ready.
God gives us experiences (both good and bad)
so we can take those experiences and connect and empathize
with others while testifying
of Him, His grace, and goodness.
He gives us boxes (actually, He's the box) so we can put heartache
and pain inside to heal, grow, forgive, and forget.
And we have keys to open up our boxes
when the time is right.
I am constantly opening and shutting my box.
I believe there is a difference between an untidy, disorganized box
that is overflowing, and a box filled to the brim
but neatly organized. I think Christian's box is well-structured
and has a proper filing system.
My box, on the other hand, feels more cluttered and chaotic
which is why I want to talk to him about the contents of my box
all the time.
But perhaps the most the most important thing about our boxes is
I'll be there whenever Christian wants to open his box, and he's
there when I open mine.