The Problem with Life
“Maybe the problem with life is that we think there should be no problems. When you fall to the ground, that gives you a place to rise from. The wound may not be your fault but the healing is your responsibility.” ~DeAndre Sinette
Since January 1st, I’ve been using the FitOn App to get back in shape. While I was skeptical about how good online fitness classes could be, I gave this one a shot. It’s become a source of joy, health, and rejuvenation for me. Yoga teacher DeAndre Sinette has become one of my favorites. He said this quote in the class this morning, and it really hit me hard. They were the words I needed in a world that is experiencing so much trauma right now on every level.
I have often found myself asking “why me?” and “why the people I love?” so many times over these last few years. Why is it that people who work so hard to do everything right can end up on the most difficult roads? I get knocked down and I ask, “How will I ever stand up again without the fear of being knocked down again?”
I am living these questions, and that is the point. I am living. I am present to my suffering and the suffering of others, and also to my own joy and the joy of others, and everything in between. I am here now, miraculously, and that is not a small thing. I am safe. I am cared for. I am loved. I am. I am. I am.
This doesn’t mean that new problems will not arise, for me and for the people I love. It doesn’t mean that everything from here on out will be sunshine and roses with no grief and no sorrow. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that grief comes in waves. Anxiety and worry find us when we least expect it, and damn it seems to always be at a time that’s extremely inconvenient. How rude of grief to be that way. I wish it would make an appointment like everyone else, but it doesn’t. It arrives unannounced and unwelcome, and takes its sweet ol’ time leaving. Or rather, it never really leaves. It just subsides, sure to return.
And so does joy. And so does the light. And so do we. Life is not a line, but a spiral. The seasons come around and look a bit different each time, just like us. When we are down in the valley, we can be sure that eventually we will claw our way back up, often with help from others seen and unseen. And we are on the mountaintop, we can be sure that as we continue our travels, eventually we will stumble again. This pattern repeats and repeats and repeats. All we can do is be present in it, enjoy what we have, work through the grief of loss, and keep going—healing all the way.