Better together

Another Five-Minute Friday The rules are no editing, no over-thinking, no back tracking. Just writing. Today's word is together... Go.... Better together It’s hard to leave. This has been home for a long time. I thought I’d live here the rest of my life. But we’ve been set free to explore other places. Why would we want to go? Why not stay forever? Stay where it’s familiar & comfortable? Of course, we realize that we can’t stay forever. Some day we’ll have to leave – when we no longer have the health to stay. Or perhaps one of us will be gone & the other wouldn’t want to stay alone – or to leave alone. How much better to leave together when we can! When we have the desire to journey & explore. When we still have the energy to make it happen without being a burden to others. Yes, we’ll have to leave some day. Why not do it now – while we can leave together? While the leaving can be fun & joyful... It’s better together.

the jungle feast

Brilliant lush green – deep, dark green and yet somehow bright green – contrasts with the deliciously wet black tree trunks. Yes, those are the colors of this jungle after a soaking rain. Yes, the leaves are opening enough to make it look like a jungle today. What a feast for my eyes! This is one of my very favorite times of the year (at least in my top four!) to be in this glorious part of creation. It wouldn’t be hard to feel badly about leaving it all; nope, it wouldn’t be hard at all. On the other hand, I can choose to enjoy every bit of beauty, to breathe it in, to drink it in, to celebrate the fact that it has been my privilege to enjoy it for 39 springtimes, and to enjoy it even one more time. Why would I want to let anything spoil that celebration? It is with a hard lump in my throat that I think of the hard parts of leaving even whilst looking forward with grand anticipation to the journey ahead. It's a jungle out there and I can't wait to explore it.

Funeral awkwardness

I wonder what Lazarus would do at a funeral.
What would he say?
How would he feel?

If I were him, I think I might feel awkward. Not just the “not-knowing-what-to-say” kind of awkward, but you know? Sort of like a cheater? Yah, yah, I worry too much about what people think, but I’d probably imagine that someone might be thinking “So what are you doing here? Are you trying to show off?” Or maybe someone would think “How insensitive of you to flaunt your live body at a time like this!” Would anyone think that he was gloating?

Maybe he would feel a little bit like I felt the first few times I saw my friends after they lost their son to cancer. Jon & I were diagnosed around the same time. We were both bald the same summer, but he’s gone now & I’m still here 8 years later. It's almost as if I feel guilty for surviving - not really, but almost. My friends assure me that seeing me does not make them any sadder; no way do they resent my recovery, but still I feel weird.

Movement

Movement
Mobility
Motion

I have committed to 40 Days of Movement. It has been a good exercise. Some days I have been excited about my progress report - other days not so much.

Recently, I haven't known how/what to report. I have been in motion, but I’m not sure how to describe it. Much of my motion has been internal – in my mind & in my emotions. Much of it has not been in a clear direction, but has been on a winding road with lots of twists and turns – nor has it been level or stable, but more like a roller-coaster.

I have been sorting boxes & more boxes. I have accomplished small goals – like reducing the pile of boxes – but I still feel overwhelmed at times. Or I think that I’m feeling good at times, rather proud of myself – and suddenly… Boom! I fall apart; I blow up. I show evidence of internal turmoil.

Some days I feel ambitious & energetic; other days I can barely force myself to tackle one small pile. Some hours I can only convince myself to deal with one item. All the letting go takes a toll. The multitudinous decisions wear me down. I want to be rid of the stuff, but it’s hard to let go.

I can’t be objective. Some days I can see the progress; other days I can’t see beyond the remaining piles.

But I am consciously committed to movement. Each day I choose to move – to move my body, my person, myself – and my stuff.

Gift

Five-minute Friday The word is gift. The rules are simple. Write for 5 minutes. No editing, no over-thinking, no back tracking... just write. Go. ... Gift I have received lots of gifts. I have taken good care of them, have been a good steward of most of them. I have enjoyed them & celebrated them. But sometimes the time comes to let go of a gift. I don’t do that so well. It feels wrong, feels like I’m no longer a good steward, no longer grateful. It’s hard to mourn the death of a gift, to accept that the expiration time approaches. I realize that I can’t receive more good gifts when my hands are so full of the previous ones, but it’s so hard to let go. There are tears, tantrums even, triggers for grief that catch me off-guard. As I admit that I must let go of the old gift to make room for the new, I still want some control. I want to let go of that old cherished thing on my terms – one piece at a time or in the way that I want to do it. I say that I want to be rid of the old, but I don’t want to let go of the control over it. It’s so hard. It hurts so bad. Time’s up. Ouch.