This weekend was maybe one of the hardest since quarantine. I felt emotional at the grocery store, suspicious of people getting too close to me, anxious that they weren’t wearing a mask, that I was touching mine too often.
Browsing Category
Life Musings
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Dark and light. Joy and pain. Windchimes and bullet holes. They both sing in the breeze.
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Presence. Every year, I choose a word to be my focal point. To guide and ground me through whatever life gives, and takes. I’ve done this for a decade. Long enough to know that all aspects of the word will be honed in on, the light and the dark. Life has a way of doing that, taking our intentions and lovingly developing a curriculum that will challenge and grow us in ways unexpected.
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My journey with nursing has been a long one. I was fourteen the first time I ever worked in a hospital and I can still remember the way it smelled. Like industrial cleaners and cafeteria food and stale bodies. But I loved wearing the red and white apron that identified me as a Candy Striper. As someone who would refill your water pitcher and hold the spoon so you could eat when your hands trembled.
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Joy is our key to resilience. It’s the thing that actually gives us enough courage to face our fear of loss and still allow ourselves to feel gratitude anyway. Without a deep commitment to the vulnerability of joy, we would not have the fortitude to survive sorrow.
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What if we ask and it doesn’t come? What if the way it comes isn’t how we wanted it? What if it’s not from who we want it? Or, even worse, the last person we want it from?
Asking is a form of surrender and that shit is scary. More than needing help itself.