tomorrow we leave for our annual trip to the beach with dear old friends. it's a time we look forward to every year and yet this year i go in with a bit of apprehension and a need for reflection and fortitude. it was on this trip last year that i wound up in the hospital with meningitis- the very experience that led me to the long healing process that then led to the creation of this space.
as I go into this trip I am reflecting upon what steps I have taken towards self-care in the past year and the love and support of others that have helped to ease the burdens. i am calling upon the open arms of compassion, presence, patience, gratitude, and faith to carry me through these days.
what i struggle to abandon are the etched memories of the physical pain and of the day to day life that exists in a hospital setting- the 24 hour sounds, the sterility, the endless waiting. I am also battling the persistent fear of allowing myself to get too run down or unconsciously "set the stage" for such a calamity to recur. any sign of drastic fatigue or the slightest illness sends me into a tizzy.
what lies within an anniversary can fill us with such pleasure or such pain. we can instantly transpire ourselves back into that defining moment- whether it is the marking of a birth or a death (either physical or metaphorical), a celebration, or a tragedy. a certain irrationality exists since the actual occasion is not recurring in our present space and yet the emotions that rise are as real as anything else around us.
and so all I can do is breathe and hold dear what is here. today. and offer a huge thank you to any of you reading this who have offered your hand to me on this path of recovery- you know who you are, near and far. as i stand oceanside this week i will be sending waves of gratitude your way.
(the dolphin above swam alongside my father, husband, and I the day after I was released from the hospital. earlier that day a beautiful deer had come to the window of the house we were staying in- both messengers indeed.)