like, bone-aching, mind-numbing, depressingly tired.
and I’ve been like this for a while. As in, a couple of years.
I’ve been to doctors, naturopaths, therapists, yogis, gyms, nutritionists, and every time come away with a “this will work. do this” and a whole lot of resulting disappointment and a whole lot less in my wallet.
But I continue to hope. Because I want to walk the El Camino in Spain, and walk through Petra, Jordan, and run on saturday mornings with my man. I want to make it through a day without needing a nap and without barking at my kids because their needs are just so much more than I can physically attend to.
So when Mikeal says to me “what if this is how its going to be? As in, forever?” another part of me dies. The part that climbed Angel’s Landing, and ran 13 miles on a regular basis, and hiked through rivers and rocks and could spend endless hours at the mall digging for bargains.
What happens to that person?
There is purpose in everything. And I’m beginning to accept that my purpose right now isn’t to be physically active. I have put off my dreams and desires “until I get better.” I’ve assuaged my guilt, my shame, my sadness by promising myself that I’ll get to that “thing” after my next appointment and i’ve got answers and a magic bullet that will at least make things better Enough.
so what if better is now? what if this, right here, is sacred space, just as all the other moments of greatness are sacred space? what if there is something so divine in this experience, that if I just paused long enough to see it I would see God? In this moment.
Sadness over losing the vitality I once had is shining a light of gratitude on the greatness that I was blessed with. I was a bright, active, shining star in the cosmos of this universe and wow! How blessed was I to experience those things?
And now, I get to be a divine entity in a different way Still created by the hand of God, still shining and bright, but with a smaller radius, perhaps? I get to slow down. I get to deliberately choose my activities. I get to be intentional in how I spend my time. I get to experience breath, and seasons, and textures, and flavors on a level that my rushed, pushed, intense-self didn’t comprehend.
I get to wait at the bottom of the hill. I get to savor the beauty that is there while I wait for the others to have their high-climbing, exuberant adventures. But what a blessing it is to have been to the top of that hill and to know both sides of the moment.
I might be sad for a few more moments. And I’ll probably be sad again. But I’m going to embrace this moment. And be grateful for it.