Today I pulled the "Death" card and it made me smile. Yes. Let's do this. Let's combust and reform and renew and plunge into bigger, truth-ier living. This is the lesson of winter, that in respite comes re-birth and renewal. It's the lesson of every sun-rise, of waking up from deep sleeps renewed and revitalized, our cells shifted and skins shed.
A few years ago, the death card would have caused my stomach to turn in knots and fall through the floor in dread. I was terrified of change, because it brought with it the potential for pain. I had developed the belief that getting my hopes up only made the disappointment all the worse when invariably I didn't get what I wanted. I was locked down and stuck because on some level I wanted to keep everything right where it was.
There is a comfort in feeling you can predict the future, even if that future looks miserable. That's part of why depression is so powerful, because it feeds you the line that this is all there is and ever will be. It pretends to eliminate the risk of disappointment by keeping your hopes and expectations down. It muffles all the "we'll sees" in life, robbing you of the exhilaration and curiosity that can accompany them.
The fact is sometimes life hurts. It's just a part of the equation neither good or bad. Pain is a sign that you gave a damn, and giving a damn is a very good thing. It takes courage to care, to hope, to leap, and love, and risk, and chase. If life doesn't hurt sometimes, you're not doing it right. Just don't stay there ignoring your fear and in doing so, letting it become your narrator.
Spark of Light, the first song on Feral as Folk, is about shifting out of that comfortable pain. It's about rewriting the story to accept that sometimes suffering happens, but there is something past it. The liberating truth is that life is insecure anyways, so you might as well choose the risks that put you closer to who and how you want to be. Listen below for a little kick ass courage to spark your day.