pain Archives - Page 3 of 3

Don’t Wait

Julianne HarveyDecember 8, 2015December 7, 2015Leave a comment

I ran a literary salon in a grade eleven English class, and one seventeen-year-old student said, “I’m just waiting for my life to start.” This struck me as a sad statement, so I asked him, “Aren’t you alive now?”

He responded with a list of the many ways his life was going to improve when he got out of school and into the real world. He would get a good job, be free to make his own choices, live wherever he wanted, and answer to no one. I tried to tell him that the problems only get bigger when you get older.

It’s dangerous to long for your life to start, because most of that is only conjecture. It’s like throwing darts while blindfolded, hoping to hit your target. How will you know when you’ve arrived at this magical place where now your life is finally what you want it to be?

I think it bothered me because I saw myself in this young, discontented teen. Most of the things that irritate us hit uncomfortably close to our own experience. I don’t think I convinced him to stop living in the future and start embracing the messy, beautiful imperfection of his current grade eleven experience, but that wasn’t the point. Instead, I convinced myself.

I spent many years waiting for that elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I told myself, “My life will be amazing when I get married, have kids, sell a screenplay, buy a house, go on a book tour, win an Oscar…(fill in the blank).” Some of these things have happened and some have not, but waiting to be happy and fulfilled is a losing game.

It’s all here, right now, each and every day. The responsibility, the fun, the pain, the bottomless joy, the wonder, the crouching fear, the uncertainty. All of it belongs to each of us, muddling our way through this strange, beautiful and terrible experience called life. We can’t wait. We must be brave enough to live it now, today, this very hour.

Happiness and hurt exist together, side by side. We don’t get creativity without fear. We only succeed when we are willing to fail. It’s all mixed up together, in an unpredictable and sloppy brew. If we are alive, we shouldn’t wait for our life to start. It’s been going since the moment you drew your first breath.

Own it, for exactly what it is. If it sucks, improve it. If you hate it, make changes. Life is not happening someplace else, in some future location. This is it.

Don’t blame your parents or circumstances or politics. If you want something, pursue it with your whole heart. Don’t quit until you get it, but by all means, enjoy each and every step on the path that takes you there. We only have so much time to be alive. We all have lessons to learn. Everything counts.

Don’t wait. Today is the day to live your best life.

In Personal Growth, Relationships, Spiritual Life

The Ashes of Peace

Julianne HarveyDecember 1, 2015November 30, 2015Leave a comment

I’d love for this world to make sense. For people to take responsibility when they mess up. To own it by naming it out loud and saying, “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better in the future.”

So many things are out of our direct control. We can’t make anyone do anything. Not one of us can stop people’s rage and fear on the Internet right now over the refugee crisis. I long for kindness and weep at the vitriol I read and see. It’s agonizing to live in such a knee-jerk world; so hostile, fearful and rejecting.

I know that real change only comes from the inside. You can’t legislate it, mandate it or manipulate your way to it. Transformation blooms in the heart, watered by pain and loss. It’s always an inside job. Looking to the Internet for solace and compassion is a dead-end game. We must go inside for these valuable commodities, growing them like a garden, and drawing those we know, trust and love near to share them.

Writing these things is calming for me. It’s isolating to be sensitive at this time and place, with the world such a cruel mess. We are all capable of wounding each other. I must take responsibility for the awful things I say and do, extending mercy to myself as much as to others.

I crave certainty, honesty and beauty. Those qualities are in short supply right now, but when they are scarce we must breathe them to life in ourselves. We can make space for love, forgiveness and generosity, even if others are calling publicly for the opposite.

It’s time to slow down. To inhale and exhale. To stare out the window and pet the cat. To indulge in a chocolate bar. To feel reassured that tomorrow the sun will rise and we will all get another chance to do a little bit better.

It won’t be dark forever. We can learn to let go of what is not ours to own. We can blow on the ashes of peace in our soul and try to ignite them back into flame. We can do only what we can do to lighten up the darkness and bring hope to those who feel hopeless.

In Personal Growth, Spiritual Life

Investing in Self-Care

Julianne HarveySeptember 8, 2015September 7, 2015Leave a comment

I’ve had a small health issue crop up this weekend (of a delicate nature, so I’ll kindly spare you the details). At first it was annoying, then worrisome because problems always seem to arise on a long weekend when everything is closed, but eventually I found it soothing when I began to invest in my own care.

As women, we tend to be busy nurturing and caretaking for those we love. Far too often, we ourselves are not on that list. Discomfort or pain tends to bring us back into focus, helping us to figure out how to show love in the form of self-care.

I resented having to search out remedies for the physical problem I was experiencing. It took time away from other things I wanted to be doing. But implementing what I learned to solve a problem I’d never had before forced me to slow down and nurture myself the way I would a sick child.

It was a healing exercise. I needed to be the sick child that my own adult self made time to look after. It reminded me that I am important. When our bodies throw up a white flag, crying out for attention, it’s necessary for us to listen. We are not machines, as much as I long to be, where nothing ever goes wrong. We get tired, or sick, or we age and face certain indignities that must be addressed.

I used to have zero tolerance for physical weakness, in myself or in anyone else. Heaven help my poor kids or husband five years ago when they were sick, as I wrote it off as a character flaw. Coming to terms with my own inherent worth helped to cure me of this abhorrence of any illness or pain. I see now that this disdain for human vulnerability was a survival tactic in my alcoholic childhood home, where competition was a bloodsport that only the strong could endure.

I see vulnerability differently now. I know that it reveals strength, not frailty. I can no longer afford to expect so much from myself or from others. I must employ gentleness in mannerisms, speech, actions. I want to model for my kids that when something hurts, we should slow down and listen. We must make our health a priority, in all areas, and look after ourselves with love and mercy.

I could do without this annoying condition, but it has helped me to recognize that my physical body needs my care as much as my mental, spiritual and emotional needs do. I can slow down and care for what is damaged and in need of rest. I can love myself enough to care for all of me.