I’ll just say it, because I need to hear it, and maybe you do, too: This is hard. So hard. Long covid, the pandemic, locked down holidays, uncertainty—all of it.
And here’s the other thing I need to hear: Damn, girl! Look at all you’ve been through. Look at what you’ve managed to survive!
Look at what we have managed to survive. When you find yourself tallying your losses, do you also pause to tally the moments in which you’ve managed to be even a little bit graceful about this whole mess? Every moment in which you’ve mustered compassion, gratitude, patience, creativity, perspective, hope, curiosity, determination, or presence is a triumph. Every moment in which you’ve managed to care about someone else’s pain, even though you were grappling with your own, is a victorious testament to who you are.
So find your own version of “damn, girl.” Try on “wow, woman,” “duuude, dude,” or “f%^# yeah, self!” Whatever words you choose, kindle some awe and appreciation for your own resilience. You deserve it. Not because you’re always strong. Not because you’ve never wallowed. (Please tell me I’m not the only one who wallows!) But because for each time that you’ve sunk down into an emotional trough, you’ve also risen back up again, shifting, growing, cresting like a wave.
The powerful, earth-shaping crest of a wave couldn’t exist without the trough that precedes it. We need the ups and the downs. In our low moments, which we sometimes mistake for wasted time, we’re adding drops of water to the ocean of our experience. In time, these experiences power a new wave, a new crest of compassion or creativity. Our troughs offer the contrast that make life’s little joys into celebrations. These troughs build the embodied understanding that makes empathy possible.
Some days, I hate the troughs. We all do. But without them, I wouldn’t be who I am. And damn girl, flaws notwithstanding, I don’t want to be anyone else. I don’t want you to be anyone else either.
Maybe you’re riding a blissful wave of gratitude, presence, and unicorns today. Or maybe you’re in a trough so low that you feel your body chafing against sand. Perhaps you find yourself somewhere between these extremes. Regardless of which energetic space you inhabit today, know that you’re not alone. Know that the tide will shift again, and trust that all of this ebb and flow is shaping something beautiful and new.
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Thanks Lisa. This made me smile.
(Mine's probably, “duuude, dude", and I've sure earned it the last couple of weeks.)
My whole life feels like this but I'm sure I'm not unique in this respect. I'm looking forward to the zoom get together on Sunday - thanks for organising it 😃