Tuesday, April 19, 2011


     When tragedy strikes, or something shifts dramatically in the routine of my days, there is a surreal sense about things. I have the feeling that life should stop, that there should be a pause long enough for grief and reflection and the incubation of new energy to continue on. But nothing stops. Life keeps on. The sun rises and sets. People untouched by my personal struggles ramble on about their everyday business.
     And maybe it's exactly because the everyday normalcy keeps on that I am able to keep on. I am pulled and guided by the hours and necessities of life, by breakfast, lunch, and dinner, by the need for clean clothes and face washing; the need for showers and sleep and conversation. All these things are small anchors in my life, to keep me grounded when I am unsettled on the inside from tragedy or transition or too much turmoil. And I find comfort in what's familiar when outside forces corrupt the pattern of my world.
     I have not experienced any great tragedy of late, but I have an ample share of transition rattling my routine. It feels strange more than anything else. It feels foreign and unknown. But I trust the transitions, just as I trust the tragedies, even when they are hard, even when they don't make any sense. And I believe I am blessed to trust them. I have this great innate faith that all is growth and progression and that the spirit within cannot die. I believe that we are so much more than the limits we see.
     So it's appropriate really that life does not stop. It's not meant to. It carries us forward into growth and change. I face things I cannot fathom and get to the other side whole and healed. The process and the routine of living are my true North while my spirit lurches and twists in growing pains and turbulation. But I do get through things, and I always have. The human spirit endures. The human spirit is beautiful the way it endures.

I will trust the transformation process today and feel grounded by my steady routines.