Response to "Turning 59"
Thank you for your raw and honest letter about turning 59. Your willingness to engage all of the parts, feelings, and life inside of you is so refreshing. I hear both your ache and your desire for stepping deeper into who you are called to be… and yet, there is always a grief… a loss of what we have known.
These past two months have been very full; I have been holding on with a thread. Life has felt like a very swift river that is on the verge of flooding. We have had family in town for two weeks, Christmas, all of us have been sick, (I still have a cold that’s hung on since before Christmas!) and Doug had knee replacement surgery and a cartilage transplant. Plus a 5-month-old puppy. Enough said. Amidst it all, I feel as if I have been thrown in the washer on high intensity and wondering if I will come out smelling fresh and clean or a bit ripped, dull and shriveled. To be honest, I have gone into lockdown mode. Somewhere in the midst of all the needs and demands, I have shut down and found autopilot. The problem with lock down is nothing feels good. We can't numb the bad without numbing the good… Damn it!! The people closest to me miss me. And I miss me.
Thankfully, I have begun to thaw from my lock down. Recently, I went on a silent retreat to a local monastery. As I stood on a dock in Lake Washington, looking at the beautiful snow-capped mountains and feeling the sun on my face (a rare gift in Seattle, this time of year), I remembered the Scripture Matthew 11:28, which says, “Come to me all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” This is often a Scripture that is quoted but what I was faced with on this dock was that often--too often-- I try the Starbucks drive thru version of “come.” I just throw up a few prayers about how tired I am and hope rest will follow. But as the sun shone on my face that day, I was struck by how much I really need to COME-- to carve out space like this and be quiet.
Somewhere between my conversation with you, one with another friend, and this time on my silent retreat… the thaw began….
Thanks for being a friend I can come to even in the midst of lock down and as I defrost.