I haven’t been able to write about this part of my life. There are no big secrets, no big events and no real revelations. But there is stuff. The stuff most people experience. I finally have a job that fits. I have a dog I love. I go on adventures. I go to movies. I watch (A LOT) of TV. I tell ridiculous and exaggerated stories. I dream about the future… but not as much as I used to.
I always feel tired in some way. Most of it has to do with my health, but some of it is lack of motivation. I have been so motivated, driven, and determined for most of my life. Now I’m just… not. I think some of my tired is grief. I am grieving the loss of my former self. I am grieving for my friends who are really sick and have beautiful families who still desperately need them. I have a lot of these friends right now. I have 2 close friends who are experiencing cancer for the 4th time. These strong women have young kids. They have things to do.
Somehow, my empathy, love, and ability to be realistic is a really good fit for those who are struggling. I don’t have a lot of judgement about how people react to illness. I think everyone is on their own path, but I relentlessly invite myself to join them and support them on this path. I consider myself fortunate to not have a family to take care of. This lets me give of myself in ways that other people are not able. I will give you a ride, have long phone conversations, sit with you in the hospital, and make you laugh. I have the flexibility to be wherever I am needed. I can give you 100% of my attention.
I love my friends so much and I would never change those relationships. But now, I am sad. I am sad that I will lose them. I am sad to see them suffer side effects. I am so sad for their families. I don’t want to see them in pain.
I have cried a lot lately. I have cried for so much loss in my life. I cry when I am in physical pain and when I am depressed. I cry because I want to have more energy. I cry when I compare myself to other people. My emotions are all over the place. I am highly sensitive, yet very strong. I have learned (with a lot of help from my mom) that the hard times don’t last forever. They may come back… but they won’t stay forever.
Because I know there are times when I will have relief, I get really excited about most things. I have a habit of calling everything an adventure. I even think it is an adventure to go to the grocery store. I always take a moment to look around and take in the beautiful places I visit. I have a lot of gratitude. I also think out loud, ramble and sometimes talk just because I feel like it. People tell me I have a tendency to narrate my life.
In a way, this is the quiet time. I don’t know what makes it quiet. It isn’t that I have miraculously stopped talking. I think things that happen are not as loud as they normally are. By loud, I mean hectic, chaotic, and disorienting. It is quiet by choice. I stay at home a lot more. I don’t put myself into the middle of madness. Sometimes, the quiet time is so sad. It can be lonely. It can be refreshing and renewing. Sometimes it can just simply be boring. Sometimes, it just is.
We all need to experience the quiet time. It is not like it is better or worse. It is just needed. It is a time to reflect, to listen, to grieve, and to experience simplicity. I invite you to explore what your quiet time looks like, how it feels, what it makes you think, and if you agree that it is necessary.
In your quiet time,