Yesterday I took a long run outside. The weather was perfect. It’s that sweet time of year when the dandelions look so pretty springing up in yellow clusters in everyone’s fresh green lawns. They are a symbol that summer is almost here.
I hadn’t been sure of what to say lately. So much is happening, all pretty good, but I just didn’t have much to say about it. I guess, although things are okay, I was uninspired. I was exhausted. I was frustrated. I wondered why…
I was doing all the same things. I felt like I was moving in the right direction physically, but mentally, I was stuck. I wasn’t developing new coping skills anymore and I wasn’t learning new techniques to help me keep secure footing. I’ve unfortunately, already learned those skills and use them regularly. I felt like I stopped growing.
I was beginning to feel comfortable, which made me uncomfortable and uneasy. I needed to know what was next so I could start preparing for it. I needed to know what books to read, what articles to study, who to ask which questions. But, I didn’t know what was next, so I was at a standstill.
For the first year and a half after Tom’s death, I learned how to just get by personally, then deal with death, then manage the grief. There was continuous reading, listening, learning and growing. But I feel done with that now. I’ve never liked being complacent and that’s how I had been feeling. I was wondering, what do I do now??
I had been climbing for so long. Climbing out of grief.
Reaching, stretching, using my whole body and my entire brain to get OUT.
I got scarred and calloused during the climb, but colors became more vibrant and music became more meaningful. All because the darkness I was working through was SO DARK.
It was hard, but I did it.
It still is hard, but I am doing it.
Everyday, there is something that knocks me on my ass. I take a moment, let myself feel it, respect the pain of it, gather myself and get moving again. It’s all that can be done really.
On the last couple miles of my run, I finally realized that I am not actually stuck at all. I’ve reached a plateau- “a state of little or no change following a period of activity or progress; a rest.”
Since I have been through so much “activity” and we, as a family, have made so much “progress” dealing with our loss, of course plateauing naturally is the next step. It by itself IS progress.
Why was I trying so hard to keep climbing when this is obviously a time to rest? It’s a break from the climb. It’s a little time to stop and be grateful that the kids and I made it this far. It is permission to relax and catch my breath.
Being on a “plateau” is okay. It doesn’t mean that I’ve lost growth mindset. It means that I can look down to see how far I’ve come up. It means that I can look up and see how much further there is to go later. But for now, it means I can take a break, take a breath, pray, and reflect.
It is a chance to see Past, Present and Future all at once.
It is time for me to be present now.
To look at all the dandelions up close.
The spiky green leaves, the tiny yellow petals, the fluffy white seeds about to let go and blow free.
Inhale.
Exhale.
To thank God I can rest for a bit.
To let go.
And to just be.
