A Lesson in Joy

I was at The Salvation Army recently to pick up something for a client. As I was walking in the doors, there was a young man walking out with his grocery box. in his small box of groceries, they had placed a single, small bottle of soda in the box(which I've never seen before). 

This man, who appeared to have intellectual disabilities, was as happy as anyone that I've ever seen in my life. He showed me his bottle of soda and delightedly told me that he hadn't had a soda in years and that he was going to drink this one today. He was grinning ear-to-ear, his glee contagious to all around him. 

After a moment, he paused in his giddy dance of joy and noticed my empty hands. He asked, somewhat somberly, if I was getting a box of food, as well. I explained to this sweet young man that I was a nurse getting a car seat for a client and was not picking up food for myself. 

He looked confused and asked me if that meant I wouldn't get a bottle of soda. I replied that no, I wouldn't. His face, moments before filled with absolute joy, fell and he began waving back on forth on his feet as if in absolute misery. I tried to explain to him that I didn't need any soda and was not upset in the least. 

His face then lit up again with an idea. He asked me with excitement if I wanted to share his Coke. He told me that we could sit in the sun and share his soda and was so excited at the prospect that he was shaking with joy. 

I didn't, of course, share this young man's soda. He deserved to enjoy every bit himself. His soda didn't fill my stomach but his kindness fed my soul.

That afternoon, on a day in which I'd been incredibly stressed before, I sat on park bench in the sunshine and had shared some conversation with a kind, young man. This complete stranger sipped on his small bottle of soda and grinned as we talked. He was drawing every ounce of happiness out of that simple moment that he could.

After he drank the last drop of the carmel colored soda, we parted ways. I have never again had the privilege of meeting that young man again but this memory will forever be a reminder to me: that gratitude and joy are both choices that we make on a moment-to-moment basis. 

I will never be the same. 

Burn

I'm sitting around a campfire tonight, reading and listening to the birds in the trees and the frogs in the creek. 

Earlier this summer we had a veritable swarm of lightning bugs at night, more than I'd ever seen in my lifetime. 

Tonight there is just one solitary lightning bug, swimming in circles in the air around me, punctuating the night with the tiniest beam of light. 

We often think that more is best. Sometimes it is. I was awestruck months ago by show in my backyard by hundreds of lightning bugs. It was magical.

However, tonight this single bug concentrated it's glowing majesty around me in such a way that I couldn't help but feel honored by the universe in way that I never had before.

More isn't always better. One single being can light up the darkest of nights and shine the way out of the deepest, darkest of times.

Be a goddamned light. Especially in times of darkness. Your light is not unnoticed.

Burn, baby, burn.

We Cannot Always Choose Happy

I’m one of those people that always have positive quotes posted around me. I struggle with anxiety and depression and having inspiration posted around me helps me to keep my mind straight. My cubicle at work, my car, my home, my coffee mugs-- they are all covered in positive quotes, memes and photos. Yes—I’m THAT person.

Recently, however, I have been struggling with a bout of sadness. I have found myself raw with feeling as I navigate working through the mourning of being a victim of a violent crime twenty years ago and finally working through the mess of my feelings that comes with that. I’ve found myself struck with tears at the most inopportune of times and suffering through the nervousness and jumpiness that comes with having my fight or flight system ‘on’ twenty-four hours per day. I am a bundle of uncomfortable emotions, just barely held together enough to continue with my day-to-day life.

I’ve found that in this raw state that I cannot tolerate the false cheerfulness of quotes pasted over a bright sunshine or motivational talks to let go of my sadness and smile. It just doesn’t ring true to me where I am right now, in this place of darkness. I am exhausted by false cheer. There are some days that I must sink into the melancholy of life. 

I have a friend on social media that is always posting the words ‘Choose happy’. She is a lovely person that lives her life trying to help others. However, I had to temporarily hide her posts. I believe that there are times that we can, indeed, choose happy. There are also times that we must feel the shitty emotions-- the pain, the sadness, the grieving-- and not doing so is detrimental to our souls. I cannot at this time in my life deny these emotions that I have denied for twenty years.

This time has been a great lesson to me. In my personal life and in my work as a nurse I have spent many hours cheering people up. I hope to continue to do so. However, I must also allow those suffering to truly feel their emotions and not encourage them to paste a false smile over their raw emotions-- doing so is a toxic mistake.

We have become a society that has forgotten the value of our ‘negative’ emotions. We hide behind pretty selfies and cheerful social media posts when inside we are reeling. We have forgotten how to allow ourselves permission to have bad days and to experience the heavy emotions that can come with life.

I will choose happy another day. However, for today I will feel the crushing sadness, the grief and the anger. I will ignore the cheerful quotes and pretty pictures and instead immerse myself inside the pain. I will allow myself to burn inside the fire that been kindling in my heart for twenty years and has been denied the chance to flame. I will emerge from the fire stronger than ever before. I will be lighter without this burden and instead of pasting on a false smile over my pain; my smile on the other side of this will be true and real.

There is nothing wrong with honoring all of your emotions. I get to choose. You get to choose. There is no shame in not choosing happy for today. Happiness will still be waiting for you tomorrow. True happiness is not the smile pasted over your tears, it is the happiness that shines through after you’ve worked through all of the shit that weighs your heart down. It’s often not an easy journey—I hope you choose to take it anyway.

End of Life Lessons

When I was a hospice nurse I often asked my patients some version of the question, "Do you feel that you've learned all that you were meant to from your life?".

Hospice nursing actually gave me time to sit and speak with my patients(unlike many nursing fields) and I got to know many of them very well. And, I was genuinely curious as a young person who felt so confused by life and the pain that seemed to be all around me. So, I started asking if they, many approaching 100 years of age, had the answers that I was seeking. 

There were many different answers to this question, some very profound. But, what really strikes me even after years have passed since I was a nurse in that field, is that no one, NO ONE answered yes. Everyone felt that many things about life were still a mystery to them and even though they felt more wise as they aged- they still had more questions than answers. They all wished that they had been kinder to themselves on this journey.  They wished that they had spent less time working and earning money and more time following the tiny voice in their head that tried to guide them to a more loving life.

We are here to live and to learn, each and every day, until our last breath. We are not meant to have all of the answers. That's okay.

If you're feeling frustrated and confused by life, my friends- you are not alone. It is a mysterious journey. We may never receive all of the answers that we wish for.

Be kind to yourselves as you walk this long road. You don't need all of the answers. We're all just doing the best that we can.