Sometimes we walk through life. Other times we barely crawl. Lately, through sleepy eyes and a healing body, I'm doing a power walk. Who'd have thought?

I'm leaving no time for my shadow to catch up with me. There will be no space or time between where I've been and where I'm going. After having had major surgery, I willed myself to recover physically in the same way I healed emotionally from my past abuse. No scalpel, sutures or even post-operative pain could steal my steam. Not after what I've endured.

Did you know this post comes to you courtesy of The Little Engine that Could?

Trust me; it wasn't always that way. When the anger I kept bottled inside me felt like an overcrowded train at rush hour, I decided I needed to stop. I needed to hit the brakes...hard. I'd come to the end of the tracks, a dead end.

A funny thing happens when you tire of the daily derailing and come to a complete stop. You begin to assimilate your experience with conducting both your train and your life. You realize there are different passengers at each station. Some will greet you; others will only smile. Then there are those who ignore you at best, but without hesitation, delight in releasing their nastiness like a locomotive firebox heaves its scalding steam. While the kind people on my train brought a sweetness, the mean-spirited incinerating individuals often reduced me to an emotional puddle of pain. I was the "pain train," stopping at every town to maintain my status quo; when your abuser is gone, you fill that void with the familiar pain that made you feel safe.

I like to say, "All bad things must come to an end." For me they did- because I reached a divide. I could stay my usual course, or I could choose the uncharted path to what could be worse or better. With a leap of faith, I chose the route unknown.

The rest of my story is a journey worth repeating both to you and in life.

From that day on, the scary turned to serene. There was a lack of familiarity that led me to embrace the new, the unchained, the light fare that used to be a 6-course meal. No longer was I consumed with an insatiable quest for happiness. I was no longer searching for clues on endless moonless nights. I was looking in all the wrong places; my soul was my North Star. It has been there all along.

This Little Train that Could is now The Little Train That DID! These days I plug along and enjoy the scenery. Oh yes, I still stop at every station, but things are different now. The pleasant passengers are still content as ever. The cranky commuters? I don't see them anymore; perhaps they still take "The Little Train that Could, But Didn't." Those days are gone- just like "those passengers."

While I hope that they, like I, have found the spark within their souls, I often wonder, where've they gone?