March 21, 2009

I just spent the last 30 mintues trying to upload pictures from the camera! As you can see I was not successful.

So words only tonight.
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Something turned, changed color, moved.

I feel downgraded, emotionally, to aCode Yellow.

Was it:

• the conversation with my step-brother yesterday in which he reminded me death can equal peace?
• the email I received from a mom at the PS#1 outlining why she knows how I feel? And the sense of humility I felt when I read it?
• the rereading of an email in which a friend felt the drive to lose weight so she could become a bone marrow donor and give life to another?

Maybe it changed yesterday while I watched my friend busting her butt cleaning my kitchen floor with humor and grace and dare I say, zeal! I noticed all the shame I was holding (why can’t I JUST clean the kitchen floor?) and I dropped it. Let it all fall and felt lost for a moment. If there is no shame, then what do I fill that space with?

Was it:

• this morning when I actually remembered to act on my nightly promise to respect myself with good food choice, exercise and water? (I sat down and ate breakfast, drank water and had a cup of tea!)
• the reality that when most people say yes, the mean yes. And it is their responsibility to say no, not mine to make sure their yes means yes.

Or is it the realization that it’s only all about ME because it’s my life. And your life is all about you because it’s your life. And that doesn’t make either one of our lives less important, less tragic or less complicated.

Last week, in my isolation, I wanted to give up. I wanted to stop. The pain was overwhelming. (Even that word can’t describe the deep, hopelesss and dark and tired, so very very tired I felt.) My soul desire was to give up the one-who-has-to-hold-it-together role along with the incredible pressure.

Today, on this overcast blaucky day, I accept the role with gratitude.

Cause it has dawned on me, I have redefined what holding-it-together means. It’s a new kind of strong. Not the suck-it-up, do-it-alone strong, but the reach-out-and-ask for-help-strong. It’s the say-yes-to-offers-strong.

Not the they-said-no-so-I-must-not-be-worthy strong but the I-will-ask-and-trust-they-will-make-a-decision-that-is-good-for-them kind of strong.

This kind of strong has no place for shame.

This kind of strong does have room for the sadness that we swim in daily. This kind of strong cries in Trader Joe’s and doesn’t care who sees it. (It’s apparently my new favorite place to cry!)

This kind of strong crumbles up into a ball, sobbing (just like on TV!) but knows that it will be over and I will rise, like the friggin’ sphinx, baby! And be more beautiful for it, too, no matter how deep or suffocating the hurt.

This kind of strong says, don’t-forget-about-us. Keep calling and writing and sending cards and doing all that you do cause this kind of strong knows that it cannot do it alone.

So, I guess, it’s not really my strong. It’s our strong.

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