The Promise of Tomorrow

by Mary Ellen Taylor

The trick with grief was to outrun it. Never stop moving because it was always trailing close behind.

People came and went, time marched on, and the earth kept turning.

All my worldly problems that I’d mentally etched in stone felt like a spectacular waste of time.

The farther we run from our roots, the closer we get to them, no?”

“Just decide that whatever you do is all yours. Don’t share anyone else’s dream.”

Take time to ask yourself what you want for you.

people didn’t die, really. Their energy just changed.

What I discovered was that grief could be tricky. It was mobile and could track me for thousands of miles. The faster I drove, the quicker my grief moved. Each time I thought I’d lost it around the last curve in the road, I found it in the passenger seat, weeping. No matter how many days or months I logged on the road, it kept pace.

Maybe instead of running from my grief, I needed to embrace it and allow it to become a part of me.

peace is a journey, not a destination,

“Money talks. Wealth whispers.”

“You can’t release what you don’t have.

“Life’s never simple. Sometimes it’s easy, but most times it’s hard.

“I am more comfortable with anger than fear. The anger permits moral outrage, and I can get a lot of work done when I’m juicing on fury. But fear is a different beast. It consumes and paralyzes me.”

Grief moves at its own pace,

and sometimes it loops around and revisits its previous stops.”