Like I Said, That's Life....

So, you know how yesterday, I was talking about the joys of my friends? And about beauty? And yes, sadness too? Well, today, unfortunately, there's been more sadness than joy, or beauty. And I'm OK, because I know that that's all a part of life. And Hope has lodged itself inextricably in my soul. But, that being said, I found out two pieces of really really difficult news today that affect people I'm closest to. And it's stuff I can't do anything about, except pray, which I've been doing and will continue to do. But, still, today has been too heavy ... like I've got a bear on my back, and I don't really have the strength to shake him off. And then there's the school work, which is all due in about 40 hours. And it's more urgent than important, but it's the last class that stands between me and a degree, and so I can't ignore it. And I'm physically tired ... really tired, like really really A LOT, from sitting and reading and sitting and reading and writing and ... well ... it's funny how tired you can get just sitting.

So, anyway, I'm feeling a bit like a deflated balloon. Or a bent branch. Or some such analogy like that. Like someone sucked all the breath right out of me, but I still have a marathon to run.

It's hard for me to write these things in this space, because I feel like I've been complaining a lot to you all, sweet friends, these days. I'm a little nervous you'll stop liking me in my sad state ... like I'm back in high school again, and I don't want to screw up by wearing the wrong thing. But that's just crap thinking. And the truth is, tonight, I'm not complaining. I'm voicing very sincere thoughts from a heavy heart. And, if I wrote anything else to you tonight, I wouldn't be walking what I talk. Because I speak about truth and vulnerability, and I say that I believe that there is grace in struggle and beauty in the midst of imperfection. And I say that we shouldn't leave one another when we're down, that it's OK to reach out and be real, even when you've nothing to offer. So, I'm trying ... to be real ... even when real isn't pretty.

This, too, shall pass. The papers will get turned in. I'll sleep eventually. But the other stuff, the pains of friends and family, the stuff that isn't recuperated from in days, weeks, or sometimes, even months or years, that stuff's just hard, you know? And there's no way around it.

Way deep down, I'm still OK. I'm still -- as poet, Mary Oliver so incredibly puts it -- "a bride married to amazement." And I'm still joyous for those joys I mentioned previously. And that's the real kicker, you know? That sometimes, to live, is to carry joy and sorrow so closely together. It all feels very full.

So, friends, those are my, at-the-clinic-all-day, much-to-do, no-stamina-to-do-it, achy-hearted thoughts. Thanks for your listening ear.