Yesterday I realized that it has been well over a month since I have blogged or written a single, meaningful word anywhere.
As the summer was winding down and my heart felt full with the anticipation of season’s change, I wanted so badly to rededicate myself to this place and to my creative side in general. I wanted the comfort of routine, and to feel like I was doing something important. At the very least I will post once a week, I told myself, not really knowing what was in store for me.
When I was in San Francisco for those few days two months ago, I spent one full day buried under the covers of my hotel bed, too sick to leave my room, my brain capable of processing only two things: how I just wanted to go home, and all of the things I was missing out on. Anyone who has been to San Francisco knows its magic. While I may have been buried under sheets and blankets, I could still hear the sounds of the city from the other side of the window~people, movement, excitement, life. And there I was on a Friday at noon, in too much pain to even lift my head from my pillow.
My illness has persisted with a vengeance since my time away. The days have been long, painful and lonely. There are moments when I can’t feel parts of me. There are times when it feels like liquid fire is shooting through every inch, deep down through every bone, vein and nerve, and in an instant that fire turns agonizingly ice cold. My tired mind doesn’t have any other way to explain it.
There have been times when I have sat down to express myself here, and the words just wouldn’t come. Or they would come, and I felt they were too raw and dark and honest, which isn’t what I wanted. Then I would worry and stress about never coming back here and having something meaningful to say. I resent my identity as a sick person. I want to defy these laws I have been forced to live by and bend illness to my will, so when I want to make plans, when I want to be smart, when I want to feel pretty, and when I want to be witty, vivacious and interesting, I can be.
To feel less lost, I have dedicated my energies to creating the best possible days for myself. Days filled with hot baths, sunshine, meditation, cozy jammies, doggie cuddles and lots and lots of sleep. I haven’t managed much more than that. The pain is still too great. But in spite of it, I still feel ridiculously grateful for a few precious things.
For my family.
For my home.
For new friends both near and far.
And for this gorgeous unbreakable safety net of love that is all mine.
Better days are surely coming soon. I also thank those of you who have shown concern for my baby girl Grace. Good news. She has a digestive condition that can be treated with medication. We are very thankful indeed that our baby is going to be just fine.
Wishing everyone a beautiful week, and a beautiful fall.
I heard a bird sing, in the dark of December.
A magical thing, and sweet to remember.
“We are nearer to Spring than we were in September,”
I heard a bird sing, in the dark of December.
~Oliver Herford, I heard a Bird Sing
I hope your weekend was a lovely and peaceful one.
I had a wonderful Thanksgiving, but like so many living with chronic illness, I had to cut corners where I could~I kept the crowd small, and kept the menu manageable. I also spaced my activities well in the days leading up~shopping one day, cleaning two days later with a rest day in between. Despite all of this careful planning, apparently I wasn’t careful enough. I have paid for all of this dearly in the last three days. While it felt like the normal world was out embracing the holiday season in earnest, I have been home, instead finding myself in illness’s embrace.
At the start of this year, in healthier days, I had a ritual as each new month began. I contemplated lofty expectations and wholeheartedly embraced my goals. Yet now, here I am, at the start of another month, a time that should be full of promise, and it is so much different. Because this year turned out to be so much different than expected. It has been plagued with lupus, and intense pain and fatigue I didn’t know existed. It has been riddled with doctors and hospitals and other ugliness.
In the face of all of this, for most of this year, I have worried about everything. I have worried about this blog, my online presence, and my other projects. I have thought about whether or not it is worth it to go on, to keep trying. I thought I wasn’t brave enough to be successful.
Now I realize that isn’t it at all. What I have been trying to do simply has not been healing to my spirit at this point in my life. It is a matter of eliminating what isn’t working, identifying what nurtures me, and choosing wisely. Illness, creativity and success can harmoniously coexist.
Moving forward, it isn’t about lofty goals or expectations. It is all about simplicity, gratitude, blessings and small victories. A very different, and better, kind of promise. I want to go gently and enjoy everything this month is about. I have promised myself from now on that everything I do will be done with meaning and love. I hope to stop in here a time or two before we greet 2014 to say hello, and then be back, as this blog does have a place in my heart and in my plans for next year.
Until my return friends, I wish you a beautiful, peaceful and healthy December.