When we are waiting for a sorry, or closure that will never come…
The more I witness death, the more I realize that there is no such thing as closure. That “closure” was actually a concept created to describe a state of mind that connotes an ending or acceptance of an end.
Images of endings appear in our minds: a door closing, a meal finished–fork down, a book–last page turned. But the mind does not operate quite like the physical world in which we operate. Our thoughts are a constant rolling tape.
So I ask myself the question: How do we learn to let go of the story of the past we repeatedly play in our minds that painfully infiltrates our present?
We begin, perhaps, to alter our perspective. Because the more our focus is directed elsewhere, or rearranged, the less the former reality appears as a future possibility; or future lost.
Only in the rearrangement of our mental furniture do we see that we were never going to be well suited for the set-up, anyway. Or if the floor caved, physics was trying to tell us it was time to replace the hardwood.
Sooner or later we must operate in this acceptance because you can’t live safely in a home with a busted foundation. I suppose you can, but your feet would constantly have splinters. This scenario is not optimal.
Here we begin to understand the other mental construct that results in the phrase, “Time heals all wounds.”
Closure never really occurs.
Perspective change, rather, is the more accurate phenomenon…however a muddled time it takes us to have such an epiphany. When we no longer see the former in focus, a new reality synaptically arises concurrently as we repurpose our mental space, or living room.