I often wonder what happens in my dog's brain. Does Ruby miss us when we travel? Does she feel sad that the other dogs she loves are not around to play with? She doesn't seem bothered by these things. Ruby is ready for an adventure, willing to snuggle up on the couch or to do whatever it is that we are doing in the moment. Oh, to live like that as a human.
The storms of life can be so hard. Illness, loss, death, fear, scarcity-all have flitted in and out of my thoughts and life this past week. The US political news makes my heart hurt for the many people who are marginalized, the families ripped apart over immigration enforcement, the people with little who are going without, and yet, the rich get more tax breaks. It is unconscionable, even immoral.
The clouds seem so grey at times. I grapple with this knowledge, trying to make sense of life and the meaning behind it, while going through mundane cycles of tasks that are necessary and meaningless in the grand scheme.
People often ask me if listening to problems and dealing with life’s darkest moments is hard. A therapist’s job is all about life’s problems and darkest moments. But it is also about finding the light and witnessing the growth and potential. That’s what keeps me going. That and faith. There is nothing more rewarding than seeing someone blossom into beauty despite the scorched earth around them.
And so it is with my own life. I must come to terms with the darkness in order to appreciate the light. Some people never change and grow; their choices affect the people around them. They cause further pain and suffering in the world, even worse, to themselves. They cannot see how they suffer, cannot see that they are the reason. And then there are people like my mother, who continuously grow and change and are able to touch others with their knowledge and strength. I want to choose the latter path.
Life is fragile. Living in the moment has never seemed more important. Looking back, I missed many important moments with my future thinking or my ruminations over the past. This busy brain of mine makes me exhausted. But being in the moment, I can soak in the warmth of a smile from someone I love, have the appreciation of a conversation that gives me hope, and the knowledge that today, especially today, I can do this. I can feel the pain and still feel ease from the things that are good.
I subscribe to a blog that often speaks to me:
“Here we are, you and me, Walt and Alan, my grandmother who is and my grandfather who is no more — each of us a trembling totality, made of particles both absolutely vulnerable and absolutely indestructible, hungering for absolutes in a universe of relatives, hungering for permanence in a universe of ceaseless change, famished for meaning, for beauty, for emblems of existence.
Out of these hungers, out of these contradictions, we make everything that invigorates life with aliveness: our art and our music, our poems and our mathematics, our novels and our loves.” Maria Popova, The Marginalian
Our health, our sanity, requires us to see the beauty in life. Sunrise and sunsets, birds in the trees, a small flower unfolding from cracks in a sidewalk, a baby’s laughter, words exchanged with those we love, a beautiful poem, a delicious meal-the things that make the dark storms of life have meaning. Some have faith in God, a larger sense of the universe, helping to not feel so alone and small in this big world. These are fortunate people.
Life can be hard and cruel. Those times pass. My wish for you, today, is to have faith in something bigger than yourself. To find meaning and beauty in the world around you and to be relieved of suffering. Show up for that protest march, call your representatives, and do the little things in the community that make life better for someone. Look for the sun in the clouds and soak up the warmth of its rays.
I plan to do just this on my walk with my loves this morning in the beauty of central Oregon. I will watch Ruby delight in the moment, chasing after scents and frolicking in the sage brush, despite the burrs she will have at the end. I will marinate my brain in the smell of pine and the dance of the light as it filters through the trees.
All I have is now. I can’t control the future, and I can’t change the past. I can appreciate what is today.
Much love,
Holly (and Ruby!)
I needed this today. Thank you, Holly. Celebrating independence today seems like a bit of an oxymoron while so many are anything but independent. I will look for the light! ❤️