Life is confusing, scary, infuriating, impossible to understand. Sometimes we work hard to do something good and end up realising we’re doing something bad. We can give the best of ourselves only to realise we come up far, far short.

I’ve spoken many times in my belief that every part of life contains a lesson, if only we can stop to understand it. This is the truest sense I can conceive of in that old adage “everything happens for a reason”. I’ve never really liked that one. It seems to suggest that every single bad thing can be justified – that the path is set in order to achieve the best possible outcome if we just let it all roll on without exercising our own ability to say “stop”. I don’t think it is, or can be. I don’t think there’s a will or plan guiding things, not in the sense that humans make plans and attempt to follow them.

But there is the Force. There is the ongoing flow of life into death into life, rebirth, renewal, and an endless vista of possibilities through which our small lives pick out a single track. And we can learn, and grow, and change because of the powerful lessons the Force enables us to learn.

Something has been happening with me recently, something very unexpected. Something wonderful, in truth. I have felt as though I am alive again for the first time in a long time, and this new experience and the possibilities it opened up for me is the reason. It seems supernatural, incomprehensible. The will of the Force, in all honesty, that such a thing could occur. But I come to realise the damage that view does. I come to realise how selfish I have been. How ignorant. How discordant.

Today I should be at work, but I’ve had to take a day to get through whatever it is I’m going through. I’m in bed at midday wondering how I can go on. What life will mean for me now I no longer have the old hope, or the new hope to live for. Now I know these truths, of who or what I am, and now that this beautiful new door has been closed to me. Wondering whether I want to continue at all.

I sit here trying to find the lesson. Tears run down my cheeks, and I feel more alone than I ever have in my life. I keep stopping typing to let out wave after wave of unprocessed emotion. I feel like my world is ending. I am trying, very, very hard to keep it together, and to go on. For my kids, for my family, and for those I love. Not for me, not at the moment. At the moment I am a ghost in my life that can’t move, can’t act. Can only watch and try desperately to hold on to that vision.

Outside the birds sing. Traffic passes. The spring wind blows through new leaves and clouds drift past far overhead. In the room dust blows through sunlight and my cats snore peacefully in the warming glow. In my body cells flow as they must, are born and die, air enters my lungs and blows out again, albeit in heavy sighs. The world, certainly, goes on. The Force moves on.

I have lost trust in myself. I have lost trust in my life and those I thought would be with me, guide me, support me. What is the lesson? I must find it.

I once said on here that the most important truths are the hardest to face. The lesson I’m trying to find must be big. Really big. It must be significant and powerful and transformative. It has to be because there is nothing left of me, at the moment, than this feeling. Who am I? What am I doing? I don’t have answers for these questions. I did once, and they changed and grew into something new and electrifying and perfect for a time, and now neither seems to fit any more.

So what’s left. What do I believe? I believe all life is one. I believe all things, are one. I believe in peace, harmony, self-sacrifice. I believe my life means less than that of the greater entity we call the Force. I believe I will die, some day. I don’t know when that will be, but I have always intended to do some good before then. I have intended to be a friend, a mentor, a father, a husband. All things must pass. This too, shall pass. As shall I.

I put my trust in the only thing I have left – in the Force, that I may find a way through this darkness.