I like to think I am a pretty smart girl. Nevertheless it is certainly true that I make plenty of mistakes. I like to think that part of being a smart girl means that I learn something when I do. Sometimes it is extremely difficult to see what the lesson might be, coming away.

I have recently gone through some of the most emotionally traumatic experiences of my entire life. And that, is indeed saying something. But apart from the fact that I was profoundly hurt, I was also deeply confused. I am usually able, even in hard times, to see the lessons embedded in my struggle. This time, it just hasn’t worked that way.

I can’t really see or grasp what I was supposed to have learned from all of this. And now, I have the residual feeling that I can’t trust my instincts; to have been so very wrong indeed seems to have broken something inside of me and I’m not sure if it is going to heal.

I want to believe it will.

In the meantime, I am conducting experiments. Studies to test my instincts and see if they are sound; if they will keep me safe.

Questions I was once too afraid to ask in fear of the worst case scenario in response are being voiced. It turns out these answers are usually less scary than I expect.

I’m practicing my patience, marshalling my courage, recalibrating my instruments.

And since the lesson hasn’t chosen to reveal itself, I’ll just have to go after it.