I am not alone.
On the days where things get spinny and overwhelming, where blinking your eyes takes more effort than you can muster, the phrase I repeat is I am not alone.
And, I’m not. In more ways than one, I am not alone. The curious case is we are in this life where things seemingly are not wrong, but then one pebble falls and the whole mountain starts to tremble. Landslide status, pronto.
I posted awhile back on the art of making new friends and at the time, had a fleeting thought there is also an art to losing old friends. In this weird crossroads of adulthood, post-graduated, everyone’s getting married world I’m in, it’s not unusual for friends to lose touch. Or, to lose friends.
It’s a wise man who can laugh at himself
With disaster at the end of the line
Saying “who are you to think
That you can keep from crying out?”
And I was reveling in the hour before the dawn
Til it hit me, maybe it wasn’t gonna come
So on that ladder to the sun,
I missed the highest rung
And as I fell from my place in the sky
I laughed so hard I cried
The thing about losing pieces of this life, or of yourself to others in this life, is it makes it all feel so simultaneously futile and permanent. I think patience and faith play in here. This crossroads of grown-up-but-not-really-where-are-my-friends-I-can-make-new-friends-work-is-hard makes it easy to lose patience with your life but I think there’s something to be said for holding on to hope in the middle of a mess.
As I’ve repeated this month, patience is simply a synonym for endurance, hope or faith. Patience is a word meaning do not give up and you will be rewarded. Your reward is this: life changes by the second. Losing something means something better replaces your void.
Today is day twenty four in my 31 days of patience series. For all posts in the series,click here.