This is the story of two women, as the title implies. The consequences of paths chosen. The final form of experiences that shape us.
A Life Lost
A woman once lived who born many sorrows. Scars marred the flesh of a life lived in pain. Love had left her beaten and broken, with children to support and an empty wallet and future. Her body ached under the strain of stress. Each step forward met her with hills and traps and impossible challenge. She had no help. No support. No one but her own dwindling ability to see her life in light and hope.
The mundanity of her existence brought on herself an existential crisis of disconnect. The rinse and repeat cycle of never-ending demands of hearth and home wore her down, breaking what little was left of her spirit.
Haunted by demons of the past, hounded by demons not yet met, the nevermore and evermore left her little peace.
She was a soul without rest.
A Life Lived
A woman once lived who born many sorrows. But also many joys. The pain of past horrors had alchemized in her soul, revealing a transformation of consciousness and form. Love had pushed through the tar that might have trapped her in pity and poor choices. Each step forward greeted her with unexpected triumphs and unimagined turns. Hope and happiness filled her life, with the laughter of her children as a guide to each new magic.
Through growing strength and independence she found a will to create and relate.
The calming routine of her family focus left her free to explore the interior landscape of her own imagination. She created worlds and wonders and thrilled in the joy of awakening to pleasures of beauty and the fire of life.
Deepened by the scars of her past, she reveled in the present and welcomed what was to come with wonder and awe.
She was a soul without limits.
Choose a life. Choose a path. We think we are in what we have no choice to change. That circumstances beyond our power have conspired to move us from one point to the next.
Not so. We are both. We are all. My story is told with pain and with hope. I am the life lived, or the life lost. I am that which I choose to perceive. Both women are one. Both women are me. Only I can choose how to tell my story. Only I can choose how I interpret my world.