#finding meaning

[quietflorilegium]

“Rae loved monsters and monstrous deeds. She hated books which were like dismal manuals instructing you of the only moral way to behave. Hope without tragedy was hollow. In the strange, fascinating world of these books, with its glorious horror of a hero, pain meant something.”

Sarah Rees Brennan, "Long Live Evil"

[krumpkin]

This isn't easy but it is true 🤔

[thewanderingemporium]

Finding meaning as a spoonie

I think it is a very human thing to cry out for meaning in your circumstances. To beg the universe for something more. That your pain, your circumstances - that it is leading somewhere.

That things aren't just bad, but might one day have hope.

And I think this is very real and true to feel and ask for. I know it has been for me.

Ever since I was little, I had known what I wanted to do. I wanted to be Palaeontologist (although this later developed into Archaeology when I learnt that most palaeontologists focus on micro-fossils and I am very much "give me giant reptiles or else" sort of person).

But I had always known my path. Knew where I was going. I wanted to do this, and then teach people about it.

And I spent my whole life working to this goal. GCSE, A Level, undergrad, masters - it was all for that singular purpose.

Then in a blink of an eye things changed, and I developed CRPS.

That change is horrible; I am not going to lie. I was sitting in the metaphorical house that I had worked so hard to build. Holding on hope that maybe I could get better.

But then things changed again.

And like that, I was now sitting in the ruins of a life I had spent 30 years building.

It was, and still is, incredibly hard. It hurts so much to lose all of that. To realise that those dreams will never come to pass now, with the body I have. With the limitations I have.

But I slowly started to come to a realisation. Because all of this was gone, I would need to build a new life. One that worked with my new body. With my new limitations. One not constrained by previous stories or beliefs. A deeper life. One that met me where I am.

That isn't to say it is easy. And I am definitely not finished on this journey (hell I would say I have just stepped onto the metaphorical path).

But I think that maybe this might lead somewhere deeper, something more meaningful. Somewhere I didn't expect, or dream of, true. But something that actually is built with me.

And this is what I wanted to share this week. That the ruins of the life you dreamed of before chronic illness, aren't all bad. Maybe it is clearing space for something truer.

And I also want to add this. I know how hard this journey is, I am just starting out and it is already difficult. But you have an amazing community around you. This journey is tough and scary, but we are all here along this path. You aren't alone.

Sending spoonie hugs

Ps – this is just a reflection of my mental and emotional processing on becoming a spoonie with CRPS. These experiences might not be yours, and that’s ok. We all have our own journeys as spoonies, I am sharing mine so that maybe you can find someone to travel with you on your journey.

[fallencalliope]

Floating letters that merge into words,

I feel the darkness flowing through my veins,

As they insert into the depths of my brain,

Conjuring the combination of phrases,

Trying to make them seem right,

Not wanting these to be seen as senseless,

But to portray wisdom and truth,

The different nuances of love and passion,

Without holding onto expectations,

Of anyone truly understanding the meaning,

Just to feel the impact of what is hidden...

©️fallencalliope

[thegentlemanwarrior]

“Those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear with almost any ‘how.’”

This was the line that cracked me open. When everything else is stripped away—comfort, status, even hope—it’s purpose that keeps us going. I’ve come to believe our “why” doesn’t have to be grand. Sometimes it’s your child’s laugh, a promise you made, or simply the belief that your pain might one day help someone else.

[venusian-blog]

“Peace, to me, is the absence of fear & the presence of love”

Peace isn't silence. It isn't numbness. It isn't pretending everything is okay. This is my personal definition of peace — beyond silence, beyond survival.

If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear what peace feels like in your life. Subscribe to my substack to follow along my literary journey.

“Peace Is Not Quiet” — A Response to My Therapist

Peace isn’t silence. It isn’t numbness. It isn’t pretending everything is okay. This is my personal definition of peace — beyond silence, be

[dailybehbeh]

Behbeh