Pandemic

Things often don’t go as planned. A hard reality to absorb when you put so much into something. By “something,” I mean everything: heart, soul, sweat, tears, hours, blood, there are more things I could add to the list. Putting those things on the line requires a level of belief, a level of vulnerability. There are few things in this world that are more difficult than being vulnerable, whether with those close to you or those you manage to keep at a distance. There’s something to be said for keeping people as far away from your soul as possible, yet there is so much to be said for allowing them in a little closer. Not so close that you show your hand…show your heart.

Glimpses.

Glimpses of greatness, of shortcomings.

Glimpses of sadness, of joy.

Glimpses of failures, of success.

Glimpses of strength, of weakness.

Glimpses…at our best…at our worse.

They say laughter is the best medicine, that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Where do these philosophical quips come from? What circumstances did some witty poet or writer find themselves in to provoke (purge, vomit) such musings? Probably not the same circumstances I find myself in at this moment in time, but then again, history does have a funny way of repeating itself.

We (humans) weren’t made to be totally consumed by our work, or any one thing. Yet, here we are. Some things seem to tailspin into urgency, constantly in motion and ever changing. We reach a moment where we feel as though we’ve got our finger on the pulse and have slowed the revolutions down enough to catch our breath and beat back the feeling that everything in our bodies is getting ready to exit with unimaginable velocity. Doubled over with fear and frustration, we grapple to find our bearings. To put our bodies back into equilibrium with the world around us. When we do manage the strength to stand tall once more, we wonder who will still be standing there.

What glimpse did they just catch? Did it change their perception of who I am at my very core? Do they offer a steadfast hand? Do they help? Hinder? Hurt? Do they have the capacity to understand how their presence in my life shapes who I grow to become from this moment in time forward? These are moments that shape me. Moments that build my resilience or shatter it into more pieces that can possibly be put back together in any semblance of my previous self. Maybe that’s okay? Maybe my previous self needs a serious and swift kick in the ass. One that requires me to pick up the pieces of my former shell and figure out how in the hell to put them back together in a way that allows me the ability to reemerge a better and different human.

After all, that’s what it’s all about isn’t it? I have to admit, as much as I hate to, that I have no fucking clue where I’m headed. There are more moments of uncertainty than clarity. But what I do know is that I would rather move through the world a little beat and broken than alone.