I hate not feeling well and I hate not being able to go 100% all the time. I have been dealing with nagging pain since December 3rd (I remember the day exactly!!!) and then for Christmas I got the awful non-COVID crud which really knocked me off my feet for the start of the new year… It’s been a slow comeback and that frustrates me to no end!! I have opted to sleep my weekends away – because why bother any way???
Depression can really creep its ugly ways into life and do awful things. It colours my perception of things – and makes my world feel very small. I watched my mother struggle with depression throughout much of her life and I vowed THAT would never happen to me. I became angry with her at times and lost my patience and my cool far too often when she was in her dark place. This is a painful memory that haunts me in my own trying times. Unfortunately, it really isn’t something I could set vows against. It is an illness that anyone can suffer from.
While I certainly didn’t choose this affliction – I can choose how I combat it. I won’t give in to it as Mom finally did. Watching my mother’s journey has helped me know the danger signs and driven me to create a tool box I can turn to when the darkness hits.
The tools I implement come from being humble enough and not too prideful or afraid to ask for help a few years ago and this past summer – something that wasn’t encouraged in my mother’s generation – nor mine. I turn to them time and time again. Real connection and reaching out instead of looking in, sunshine, fresh air, and self-compassion instead of judgment. Taking a break from social media is a big one… Finding light wherever I can in the dark grey winter of NW Montana – be it the brightly lit Christmas tree still up in my living room on January 25 or lighting candles every night. Being able to see the sky again certainly helps.
Knowing that Ember, my faithful, loyal, oh so loving dog, needs me keeps me grounded in the here and now and not what was or should have been. This weekend I finally started to feel normal again – not pain-free but somewhat alive again. Like perhaps my light can still shine. Thank you, God.
“but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31
“Let me hear of your unfailing love each morning, for I am trusting you. Show me where to walk, for I give myself to you.” Psalm 143:8
The fastest race we will ever run is the race of life. Our time is fleeting, the most important facets of life become mere flickers of memory as days become weeks, weeks become months, months become years. And yet what do we have to show for it? Certainly not a trophy – this race isn’t winnable and yet we keep running it – chasing after the prize just beyond our reach. Certain that with every mile of must do’s, every mile of minutiae, every mile of saying yes – we will garner a prized position on the roster of life. When in truth, in the end, all that is left is the etching of our name and the numerical bookends of our life onto a slate grey stone. Some trophy.
With those enlivening words, I bid you a Happy New Year! As I glance over my shoulder at the year that is now 2 and half weeks in the past, I keep asking myself, wait, what happened to 2021? How is it that another year has passed? How did I manage to run through that year so fast? And how is it that I have run through fifty such turnings of a year?
Actually, I didn’t run all that much. In fact, 2021 taught me that while I may have miraculously made it to 50, I am not invincible. One would think I would only have to learn that lesson once, but alas, 2021 also revealed a hint of obstinance within me. 2021 will go down in my book as the year that knocked me off my feet – more times than I care to count and instead of getting right back up and finishing the race, this time I was forced to limp to the sidelines – if you will allow me to continue the race of life metaphor. Turning 50 reminded me I likely have more years behind me than I do ahead; precious time I do not have to take for granted.
If 2021 had been my bookend year, how would it be remembered? Well, on the bright side, those nefarious maladies forced me to slow down and re-examine the course I have been running for longer than I can remember and instilled in me a hunger for life – real life – not the “settled for instead” life I have for too long allowed to dominate my existence.
Such wisdom only comes with the walk, and I have walked more than ran many miles this year. As I reflect on the year that was and the year to come, I realize I spent most of 2021 reacting to my circumstances instead of navigating them. After the initial shock to my system brought on by relationship upheaval, the pandemic, sudden injury, and illness subsided, instead of thinking about what these instances might be telling me I began figuring out how I was going to keep on doing life like I have always done it – racing through it and avoiding obstacles that might slow me down. Which is how I arrived at the beginning of the New Year feeling ragged rather than refreshed, resigned rather than renewed. How indeed does one satisfy that hunger for really living life instead of enduring the settled for life?
To run a race and finish well you have to be intentional with your training and intentional with your run during the race. Cognizant of those around you and any obstacles you might encounter, in touch with how your body is performing the tasks you are asking it to do, and keeping your focus not just on the finish line but on every step you take – lest you trip on a rock or stumble on a pothole- which I am infamous for!
The race of life is no different. It must be run with intention if you want to finish well and not just settle for having run it.
Living intentionally is not easy especially when faced with the unpredictable, impermanent, and unknowingness of life. We have to be intentional when living in sustained uncertainty, living without knowing, embracing the mystery, and keeping the possibilities that arise from this state of ambiguity open. I don’t rest well with uncertainty as this time of pandemic has so graciously revealed. Rather, this state of uncertainty impels me to rush with urgency toward an answer – any answer. A life of restlessness is not what I am after, after all, but my ways of relieving that restlessness have simply prolonged it.
Too often, in my quest for a reason for being I have let others define it – or worse – accept what I think others want to define as my reason for being.
Too often, my reason for being is simply a daily reaction to what is happening around me or a rush to get somewhere. I settle into the complacent comfort of taking each day as it comes rather than shaping each day for what it could be. Too often of late when contemplating what tomorrow will bring or what I want my future – even just a year from now – to hold – I find myself responding with “I just don’t know. I just don’t know anymore. “
In the end, my urgency to define my life has instead only confined it. I’ve settled for not knowing – and as time has worn me out – not caring – or living as if I don’t. And this is not how I want to be – and I don’t think how any of you want to be in this world either. I know God doesn’t want that for me or you.
But, here’s the thing, none of us truly know what our future holds. There is nothing guaranteed about tomorrow or the next day or the day after that. The last two years have made this irritatingly clear. No wonder my ponderings of late didn’t get me anywhere. No wonder they all end the same way. No wonder I don’t know. None of us know our destination until we arrive – and sometimes we don’t even realize we HAVE arrived!
To live with intention and to live intentionally in this ever-present state of uncertainty requires a compass and the patience to use one in the urgency of life. A compass requires you to be still in order to orient yourself to the direction you want to go. A compass that embodies all the points that provide meaning and direction to life. A compass provides the way.
Emily Dickinson wrote: “The sailor cannot see the North, but knows the needle can.”
Martin Luther wrote: “I know not the way God leads me, but well do I know my guide.”
By what means are you orienting your life for living rather than settling in?
Who or what is the compass that will lead you through all the unknowns of 2022 and beyond?
What are the values and qualities that will direct and guide your life;
Whose advice and counsel will you seek and trust;
To what principles and standards will you hold yourself accountable;
What tenets will help you put shape and form to your life;
What deep longings or callings will energize and move you forward;
By what practices will you maintain your integrity and authenticity?
And where will you find the stillness and solitude to quiet your mind and orient yourself along these points of life direction?
These are the questions I have tasked myself to ponder at the start of this new year and in this present stillness of my life. I can’t tell you where my life is going but by truly reflecting on what matters most – my compass points – I can trust the way.
What about you? By what way do you want to go? What are your intentions for the race you are running? Go and find stillness – welcome it into your life and finish the race well.