It’s OK that things are difficult. It’s OK that it’s dark outside when you wake. It’s OK that another summer has passed, and your babies are young adults. It’s OK that the face in the mirror has sun spots that darken with the sunlight of summer.
It’s OK that things are difficult. That human growth comes through struggle. That every day I am making it up as I go along.
Lately when I type the word ‘you,’ I stop and go back and change it to ‘I.’ I am standing here in the now remembering that the future takes care of itself through the now.
Now time is switching from summer to fall. We wake in the dark. It feels difficult.
Who told us life would be easy? That we could have everything?
My friend tells me we can have some things. We get to choose those things.
Yesterday another friend asked if I was interested in being an office assistant. I practiced saying exactly what is true: “No, I want to write. I’m not an especially good office assistant. I want to write and have time to be with my girls.”
It’s OK to choose. It’s OK that it feels difficult to choose. I’ve been re-imaging work for a year now, applying and interviewing and trying new things. I don’t know the answer. I do know I’m going to start working very part time in one of my very favorite places on the planet soon. When the owner called me for an interview, every part of my heart, which reached into more parts of my body than just my heart, every part of my heart-body said, ‘oh yes, I want this.’
It feels difficult to choose. To wake in the dark and count the days. To stand within the change that happens every day and let go of what no longer is: the Legos, the strollers, the kids needing all of me. I am standing in fall. I like the wind. I hate saying goodbye to one more summer.
Hello. Are you out there? Fall is difficult. And lovely. The “And” makes me OK with just breathing into the now.
2 thoughts on “Difficult And Lovely”
The only constant it change. I wish I knew who said that. I still struggle with change at times. Other I struggle with waiting for it to happen.
I like the Adrienne Rich line, “The Moment of change is the only poem.” It helps me.