Nearly six months ago I descended into one of life’s winter seasons. My mother and sister had already been very fragile for several years. Then last autumn, my sister’s husband had a heart attack and became mostly disabled too.
My mother lives in the same city I do, but my sister lives a thousand miles away. Trying to support my loved ones in both places, I’ve felt extremely inadequate to the task. Guilt has been my daily companion as I’ve tried my best to balance regular daily life, the extraordinary needs of my family which I couldn’t begin to meet, and also enough self-care to keep myself in decent running order.
My creative life dropped into the far background. I’ve not been to my studio in months; and this blog has received little attention. This seemed necessary for a while, but a point comes when the inner well needs a more profound kind of replenishment than that offered by time at the farmer’s market on Saturday, or reading a few pages at bedtime, or appreciating the small blessings of the present moment.
At the peak of this season of challenges, my hard drive crashed and had to be replaced, at the same time as all three of my ailing ones landed in the hospital. I felt incredibly overstretched and responded by dropping an exciting new project that felt ‘optional’. But after that I began to get sick–first the flu, then, a week and a half ago, scarlet fever.
That, finally, stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t do anything for anyone. I ate takeout sushi instead of cooking. The dishes piled up. After the first couple of days in bed I began to pick up tiny tasks related to my dropped project. A missing energy began to glimmer.
Yesterday, I emerged into the springtime. My son and I went on a ‘playing hooky’ kind of errand. The redbud and mountain laurel were in full bloom and the new green everywhere was so beautiful that it still brings a mist to my eyes to think of it. We stopped by my studio and I brought several panels back home to live with. I became ravenous for vegetables and made a big pot of vegetarian chili for supper. My vitality soared.
And today, I’m writing. My heart is full.
What gives meaning is not optional. It’s where we gain our strength.
Pingback: Антон Павлович()