Bittersweet

I like things to be compartmentalized... organized... contained... I buy containers for things and actually USE them. I like interesting boxes, cool pitchers and glasses, baskets, bags, wooden trays, lazy susans, even ziploc baggies! My motto: A place for everything and everything in it's place! :-) When I'm stressed, I organize things... sometimes I even try to organize people! This penchant for organizing things leaks over into other areas of my life and, at certain times, can cause great anxiety. Like the last few days... (weeks? years??)... I want to have all the "good stuff" of life in one container, and keep all the "bad stuff" in another container. I want to savor the goodness separately from having to deal with the bad... I don't want the goodness to be contaminated by what I perceive as "bad." ("Good" and "Bad" in this sense are not moral statements... simply statements of perception.) Although you have some perfect moments in life, most of life is rarely so contained as to eliminate any taint of bad from the beauty of the good... and, fortunately, the inverse is also true... Rarely do you have all bad without some goodness seeping in. So, I often find myself conflicted, trying to hold "good" and "bad" in a healthy tension...

We will celebrate our 30th Wedding Anniversary in two weeks. I'm really excited about that... I'm amazed and thrilled with the shear accomplishment... and I'm anticipating a wonderful few days to enjoy each other at a lovely resort on the beach. (We DO still enjoy each other!!) Oh, and... we have gotten new wedding rings to mark the occasion. Mine is absolutely stunning and a tribute to my husband, whose love for me is much deeper than I can totally absorb.

So, the week that we were to pick up our rings, a "monster" raised its head. Maybe you have monsters in your relationships and you know what I'm talking about... it's the discussion that never seems to get resolved, it's the wall that you can never seem to get past, it's the darkness that lurks beneath the sunny surface. I hate this particular monster because it's ugly, it seems to have so many tentacles, and it's injured both of us on occasion! In any case, as we were battling the monster, the day came to pick up our beautiful rings symbolizing all that is wonderful in our relationship. I wondered if we should finish the battle, watch the monster slip below the surface (again) and wait for the sun to come out before picking up the rings, but we opted to just go get them while the storm raged. My compartments crashed into each other in that moment and I was faced with the tension of embracing the moment of beauty and symbolism while monster tentacles slashed at my soul. I can say I survived, but I'm not sure I was fully present...

So... round two... last week was pitted with anxiety over a possible stress fracture and the anticipation that I might not be able to run the half marathon on Sunday. I ran a couple of times without much incident and a tiny ray of hope sliced through the cloud of anxiety... a few other pieces of hope bounced in as people said they would pray for me. Sunday morning I decided to go ahead and try to run with no expectations. It was perfect running weather... and, although my muscles were hurting, I pushed through... What a surprise to finish with a personal record of 1:57:46!! The ragtag pieces of hope all came together to make something beautiful. Much easier to survive and be fully present when the good pours into the bad, right?

So, while the monster is not heaving the boat around, he's still visible.... While the race is done and the PR accomplished, the question of injury still lurks in the pain... Today, I hold these in tension and know that this is life... that life is lived in the shadow and the light... that the hand that holds me is not letting go... that the path we take is THROUGH not around... that HOPE is only good in the middle... that the best chocolate is "bittersweet"...

Reprieve

After struggling with the "big question" in my last blog, it seems I've been given a bit of a reprieve on feeling the weight of the question regarding my possible stress fracture. I went for a run this morning and none of the symptoms stayed with me during or after my run. Hooray!

Amazing what a day will do... Today hope has dawned (even in the midst of the fog of the City). I was able to run without pain on one of my favorite routes at Crissy Field... I had a non-fat latte and a whole wheat bagel at The Warming Hut... Had a chat with a friend... and found small pieces of miracles around me.

In some way, it's the pieces of hope that help us get through tough times. On days that "aren't supposed to be like this", there are often tiny droplets of hope if we can open our eyes and hearts to see them. Sometimes they show up in nature... a sunrise, a fanciful cloud, a silvery drop of rain on a leaf, a smooth stone, a warm breeze. Sometimes pieces of hope show up in people or animals... a baby's smile, a friend's hug, the hopeful look on a dog's face... Words of a poem or in a book can be a ray of hope... or a familiar tune...

More on hope later... but for now, the wonder of being able to enjoy the little things will get me through today...

It's not supposed to be like this...

I've had a few days lately where I've thought, "It's not supposed to be like this." Sometimes sadness accompanies that thought, sometimes anger... When the thought is relative to an event or situation that is particularly personal, I can easily be drawn into a downward spiral of self-pity and depression. Here is a familiar scenario... A wonderful event is in the making and much anticipated, like a vacation or a party or a celebration dinner. Just hours (or minutes... but sometimes a day or two) before the event, a massive fight ensues between those who are supposed to be enjoying each other or celebrating a special event. Tempers flare, angry words are spoken or stony silence reigns. Perhaps a long past hurt is flippantly revisited and all the old feelings of despair come tumbling in. Everyone knows the issue must be resolved before anyone can truly enjoy the event, but there is not time enough to heal the wounds inflicted. So, the event goes on, but the sadness or anger is suffocating and the unspoken words hanging in mid-air are, "It's not supposed to be like this."

Although I've wrestled with those words on many different levels, today I'm pondering them with respect to something rather more insignificant... The San Francisco Half Marathon! I have trained well and carefully for the Half that is happening this coming weekend but my right shin hurts and I suspect a stress fracture, which means I won't run the race! Ay! It's not supposed to happen like this...

In comparison to other situations, this is minor, I know! But, it has raised the question... How does one live in the "now" and not spiral into self-pity or depression while embracing the pain of a situation that is "not supposed to be like this?" Perhaps pondering this question in the context of an "insignificant" event will shed some light on how to answer the question when faced with a serious, life-changing situation.

While there are volumes dedicated to this very topic (not the least of which is the Bible) and I have friends and family who have wrestled with this question on deep levels who have given me some insight, writing is a discipline that allows me to "verbally process" while forcing me to be specific and clear in my thinking. Writing seems to be a tool that walks me through questions to a place of hope. So, I will continue, but not today... out of time...