Life in the last 3 weeks has indeed gone wrong. Deeply wrong. I have felt broken, despairing, and profoundly defeated. As my co-worker (Eric) spoke on this, I started to grasp a much better perspective on this time. Through this time, I have (FINALLY) found a deeper peace, deeper strength, and stronger clearer relationship with God and my spirituality.
It's been an ugly 3 weeks but it has also been beautiful. It's been beautiful because like plants bursting from the ground or leaves falling off the trees, the way we transform and grow hurts but brings beauty. Transformation isn't gentle. I also felt drawn to the "sacredness of struggle".
What could be sacred about struggling, about pain?
We don't grow when things are good. We don't reach deeper when there's no worries, or at least we don't do it as naturally. When you discover where you are broken you can be begin to fix it.
When things in my life are not going the way I want or even worse have taken a far left turn into what I feel is disaster: I immediatly want OUT. My focus turns to how quickly I can resolve all issues, fix every problem, and return to stasis and happiness. I mean, who really wants to sit in feeling awful?
So, recently, things fell apart and as usual I freaked out and went to trying to solve everything, by myself, as quickly as humanly possible. All of which failed but I kept trying. I wasn't getting the lessen. Then beyond those fixes simply failing, even deeper, more frighening, and more complex problems arose. I was trying to raise a sinking ship with a bucket. I continually cried out to God, "Why aren't you helping me?!? Why aren't you bailing me out of this? Where are you? Why do I feel so alone? Even if you can't fix it, why can't you simply let me know that you're there?!?" Equal parts irony and hilarity the first book of the Bible I ever read, kept coming to my mind: Job. Look, dude has more faith than me, alright.
When finally, finally, I began to understand that in these times my focus shouldn't be on how quickly I can get out of the struggle. My focus should be on what growth, what lessons, and what truth can I find out of the problems. What I am learning here? It's hard to ask those questions, at least it's hard for me. My emotions get in the way. It's hard to think outside of the hurt while also in the middle of it. However the very day I started thinking this way, I found peace, things changed, and the things that didn't- no longer weighed so heavily on my heart.
More literal: Beauty from meltdown
It began with Josh being exhausted. He was NOT having a good dya. Josh had had very little sleep and was in meltdown mode. It's hard for him to calm down when I can't sit with him and give him my full attention.
We were outside our building getting my oldest, and some of the Arch 2 (L'Arche Clinton)girls were walking by. A Core Member (we'll call B) saw (and along with the rest of the block) heard Joshua having a crisis. He didn't have time to grab his shoes but wanted to come down with us to get his brother. Unwilling to wait upstairs but he just kept crying "my shoes, I want my shoes".
B came up to him and said "Oh, you be happy. Here take my hand" and he did. He's often hard to reach when he's upset. He trusted her. He took her hand and they walked to the door together.
In the moment I couldn't express how profound that was to me. She saw his need for touch and attention and he accepted it and he calmed down.
I think as people, we get caught up in our day to day so deeply, we forget the importance of communicating needs. We can do it with more ease and we take for granted what it's like not to have the luxury. To some of our core members, communicating basic needs is all that is possible, for some that is an even deeper struggle. When your life surrounds trying to communicate that way, I imagine it can become easier to recognize that in others.
Children are all only now learning the ways to communicate. When they're tired and upset, it's like trying to hold water with your hands. You get a little but most of it runs out. When I was holding one child, trying to greet my step son at drop off, and am seeing people I know- but my son is having a public meltdown. I was stressed. This had gone wrong but if Josh hadn't cried then this moment with B may not have occured. It's now a really treasured moment.
Gentleness does not mean fragility
Radical Gentleness?
It costs you nothing to be compassionate to those you see as less than<. When you see a beggar and you give them food. You are responding better than those who turn in disgust, but you achieve no growth. The strength in gentleness comes when you can be compassionate to the person who has betrayed you. The strength in gentleness comes when you can accept a gift from others with humility and understand that we are all at various times: the broken party.
The Journey
When terrible things happen, it's okay not to like it. When you're hurting, unless you are some kind of freaky zen master, you aren't going to sit and think "huh, this just eviserated my heart but let me stop and imagine how I can grow right now". You may though, after you have allowed yourself to feel, find new ways to process. When you can find the beauty in the middle of pain, it's a win for you. If someone has hurt you but you can forgive them, it still is no reflection on them, you don't somehow lose- it's a reflection on you and your capcity for strength. If you're still hurting and you can't find that silver lining, you're okay, you still didn't somehow lose-you're still traveling, so just keep going.
The Ugly, the Beautiful, the Uncertain, and the Traveling:
And. The Cancer:
In all of this, I have also realized I'm in denial. A big part of me is totally okay with that. The other part, lets reality sink in sometimes and I'm afraid, hurting, and broken.
My Mom has cancer.
I feel a little sick just typing that and I feel guilty because the cancer isn't actually happening to me. I'm not the one who's facing all the hardship here. All I want to do is fix it, carry my Mom and make sure nothing gets to hurt her. I can say with some confidence I would physically hurt or kill for my Mother, the people I would go that far for, it's a short list. I can't beat up cancer. I can't kill it. I can't fight it. I have no way to protect her and the only way to get rid of it could bring her pain.
Yeah, I'm crying right now.
That's what I'm most afraid of.
See, I can't even entertain the idea of losing her. As far as I can go is her being in pain with the treatments and that has me upset enough. I also, because my brain is an asshole, feel like an asshole for being worried, or hurt, or upset- because the cancer isn't happening to me. I keep thinking "shut up and put that weepy shit down. No one has time to worry about you, no one even needs to be worrying about you, we all need to be worrying about your damn mother!!!" If any of you know my Mother, know that if she's reading any of this- she's mentally getting on me for my thinking and my cursing- because my Mother doesn't ever worry about herself. She will worry about me to a fault. I'm not saying all of it the best, we do have frank conversations like: "hey, don't get wrapped up in my junk-take care of yourself".
This week went bad in a decidedly nuclear way. I felt like such a failure. I kept getting hit in the face with such intense stress and circumstances and I couldn't put the energy and focus into my Mom that I wanted to. It felt like a sick joke.
I'm struggling to find the beauty in all of this. I can see it in my own issues. I can find it in my personal circumstances. I can understand that lesson.
I can not find the beauty in my Mom having cancer.
Moments where it literally has to be funny because if we don't laugh, we'll cry.
That aside- I can't the beauty here. While I know she's not perfect, she's pretty much the closest thing you're going to find on earth. She has put up with so much shit, she has poured into so many people, she has been kind, wise, caring, and gracious than anyone I know. If there is a part of me that's compassionate, gracious, or kind- it's because of her.
My Grandmother was like that. I remember my Grandfather crying bitterly- wondering why my Grandmother got Alzhiemers when she was so good. I'm sitting crying bitterly- wondering why my mother got cancer when she is so good.
Mom is going to be okay. She has a postive prognosis, a good treatment plan, and her cancer is very treatable. This certainly could be worse. However, it's not fun, or easy, or fair. My beautiful mother has to face this. I'm feeling some type of way about it.
This is the journey. I may never find anything beautiful here. That's okay. We may be totally blessed and find something amazing. I hope for the latter. Some of this, is because it may be her beauty to find. However in families we experience things together. So we'll see. I'm looking...