It's been a very quiet day. A good day. I sat in the warmth of the sunshine filled livingroom and gave thanks for the luxury of such a simple pleasure. Like the sun cresting the horizon I am being filled with hope. With two of my three kids having left home in the last week I never expected it. I like when that happens....when one comes out of the pit of despair and is surprised by the daylight. It feels like I must have been yanked from the pit (versus a slow ride up) because the dawning of hope is such a surprise.
Yesterday was a "no spoons" day. Walking from the livingroom to the kitchen was all I could manage. Days like that scare me. I had planned on going to a funeral of someone I knew who passed away from unresolved heart & lung issues. Scary that her issues and mine are the same although they manifested differently. She was only 54. I have so often told God in the past few months that not only do I want to live, but to teach me how to truly live. Existing is one thing but it is something else to truly live. At the last moment yesterday I decided to listen to my body and stay home in spite of wanting in my spirit, to be there to give honour to her life.
Today I had to plan every move so that I didn't expend steps twice when once would do. But it trumped yesterday's energy level and for that I am grateful. It feels like the "hope fairy" has been sprinkling her dust over my very being this whole day through. It is delightful and my cup of hope is running over. I am so grateful after these past very stress filled weeks where despair was threatening to be my new pen name. What I am most pleased with is that it doesn't feel like surface hope where it means putting on a brave face while inside one is crumbling. It means I may still crumble but I know that crumbling won't be the final word.
This afternoon in the general store, I ran into a woman who buried her 91 year old husband this week. Our conversation was confirmation that my friend's death has changed me deeply. In the midst of my mourning so many things I was graced to be able to authentically ask her how she was. At first she started to gloss over her feelings until she realized that I was asking from a deeper place than customary social graces dictate. Her eyes softened and her body visibly relaxed. She then let me see the inner pain as it bubbled from the depths and surfaced in her eyes.
"God cannot be seen. He can be recognized."
- Anthony de Mello in Wellsprings