The Gift

I have avoided writing for the past few months.  The vehicle that gives me the most respite has been locked up and tucked away.  It has led to such contradictory feelings.  On one hand, it successfully kept me clear of unlocking unwanted torrents of emotion.  On the other hand, I felt a shame and heaviness that stemmed from not meeting my feelings head on. Pain can never be eliminated from the equation of life.  We either bottle it up and carry its heaviness or we let it flow through us.  So, with the new year around the corner, let the fucking waters flow.

As I give life to these words, let them renew my strength and awaken my purpose, which has always been to share my experience and ideas so that others may feel connection, hope, and light among the darkness.  Maybe you will see pieces of yourself in my story.  Maybe you will feel the prayers and the goodwill I am sending your way when you feel alone and in need of a loving friend.

So here goes nothing…

The hurt.  Fourteen months ago, my mother transitioned into a different version of herself. She became bedridden.  She courageously continues to fight the brutality of dementia.  It has not only wreaked havoc on her mind, but her body as well.  Gone are the days of caring conversations with my mother.  Gone are the long hugs and the delicious family dinners she lived to provide for all that entered her door.  It is an experience that elicits an invasive emptiness in your spirit, as your eyes tell you someone is still here, but your heart longs for the wholeness that person used to provide you.  You pack up the pain, as you are forced to bear witness not to just your loss, but also to the unique scars those you love acquire day after day.  It is amazing that the same source of sadness can generate such different responses in those affected.  You are on the same journey, but your paths are only connected by a familiar sorrow.  You may hold hands across the way.  You may find temporary shelter, but no one escapes the weight of the cross we all must carry.  

The gift: I am blessed for the gift of knowing love.  I am blessed for the gift of family.  I am blessed for the gift of the arms that hold me up when I cannot muster the strength to stand.  How blessed I am for my gifts.

The fear. I’m in a unique position in my career.  I have been part of an educational system for over two decades that is currently fighting for its own preservation.  As an empathic person, I have a habit of absorbing the pain of others.  I see the fatigue in amazing humans as they struggle to hold up an institution that is drowning in judgment and distrust. The price has been an erosion of hope, creativity, and joy that in years past flowed into classrooms.  My fear whispers: What if you cannot help others?  What if you are not enough?  What if you lose the respect of those you respect?  What if you are not enough for the challenges you see all around you?  What if you cannot hold them up above water without drowning?  What if you cannot turn the tides so that people can regain the light in themselves?  What if your attempts are wasted and mocked?  What if your fear wins?  That voice is within us all and tempts us to turn to apathy and give up.  How hard we all fight those fucking exhausting questions in our minds that start with “what if”.  

The gift: I am blessed with the gift of reflection, for you cannot face what you do not know you fear.  I am blessed with the gift of empathy as I can feel the urgency and needs of all those around me, motivating me not to give up because I care about their wellbeing.  I am blessed with the gift of amazing colleagues who offer their precious strength and courage so that I may continue to fight.  How blessed I am for my gifts.

The anger.  There has been a shift in our humanity and the culture we are surrounded by.  There is a currency of hate getting passed around by kids and adults alike.  People are quick to assume others are the enemy.  People are quick to cloak others in judgment for their differences.  People are quick to dehumanize their fellow brothers and sisters, placing them in boxes to avoid the burden on their conscience when they seek to destroy others with their words or actions.  I must check my anger daily.  It is easy to get pissed off when others look through you and think they can treat you like shit just because they are in pain or because they feel entitled to something.  It seems people want everything all at once and spend more time blaming others for their “have nots” then being grateful for their “haves” while healthily seeking out what they need.  If I let my guard down, it invokes an infuriating sense of anger within. 

The gift: I am blessed with the gift of practicing patience and offering grace to others.  I am blessed with the gift of perspective as I can put myself in the shoes of others to understand their pain and emotionality.  I am blessed with my knowledge of self-care as I can attempt to employ strategies that I know benefit my mental health.  How blessed I am for my gifts. 

The brokenness. My life, much like the lives of everyone who has been a part of the human experience, has been flooded with adversity.  I have been broken time and time again.  Then just when I begin to think I am whole, I am reminded of my fragility.  I see the cracks and worry the glue won’t hold.  We are all broken.  We are all on a mission to gather pieces that may fix the hurt, quell the fear, and open the floodgates of self-love.  This year, I fell to my knees more times than I can count.  The difficulty is when you spend too much time staring at the floor in despair you forget that there is a reason the sun is up in the sky.  It reminds us that after the darkness, there is always light if you simply pick your head up and rise.    

The gift: I am blessed with the gift of my scars that represent strength, healing, and hope.  I am blessed with the gift of faith as it reminds me that hope is eternal and never runs out if you choose to keep your heart and mind open to it.  I am blessed with the gift of light; it resides in those all around me and gives me the strength to rise up. 

When we think we have come up empty, we merely need to open the gift.  Yes, though it sounds contradictory, the GIFT is our hurt, fear, anger, and brokenness. My experience continues to teach me that instead of searching for excuses to remain in despair, resting on the reasons it feels worthless to pull myself out, I must unwrap the gifts before me instead. When you feel you have nothing, dig into your soul, and give.  At this juncture in my life, I am certain that we must give every ounce of love we have, for it is in our love of self and others all gifts are hidden.