healing. {reverb10 – day 19}
::
What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip
evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011?
::
To say that I was healed in 2010, by anything, would first mean that I had to have been hurt, or broken, or sick. And I was a little of each at numerous times, I suppose. But not in any significant way. Not in any way that was overwhelming or devastating or catastrophic. Just in the day to day way of life, where these things happen sometimes. In that respect, I’d have to say it was a pretty good year.
There have been other years when I needed healing, other years when the hurt, or the broken, or the sick were the themes in my life. But fortunately for me, 2010 was not one of them.
This is something I am profoundly grateful for. Something that I can appreciate in a way that, five years ago, I wouldn’t have. Five years ago, I would have taken a year like this for granted and gone out to celebrate on New Year’s Eve expecting another one just like it.
Now I know better. I know that nothing is forever, the good luck or the bad luck, the joy or the sadness, the war or the peace.
Life is ever-changing. Sometimes faster than we can keep up with. We have no idea what is around the next bend in the road.
Oh, we pretend we do sometimes, we make plans and set goals and unfurl long lists with things we have to do along the way to get there. There. To where we think we are going.
Only life has a way of laughing at those plans. Of throwing herds of cattle and oil slicks and thunderstorms and a whole host of other obstacles in our way. Things that alter our plans, minute by minute.
And so, we adapt. We stop and wait for the cows to pass. We pull ourselves back out of the ditch we ended up in. We sit there and watch the tree that got struck by lighting burn, and we weep.
We go on. That is life. That is healing.
We have hope. Hope allows us to leave open the possibility for change. Within ourselves and within others. Hope allows healing to happen.
It doesn’t really fix anything at all, this hope.
It just opens the door to let new things walk in, after the broken, or the hurt, or the sick, walk out.
And fortunately in 2010, my door was wide open.
December 19th, 2010 at 10:59 am
Bring on The Cows!
Cheers to 2011!
December 19th, 2010 at 11:03 am
The damn cattle won’t get out of the road, but I do have a warm leather jacket.
Hey, do you mind catching that door on your way out…?
December 19th, 2010 at 11:12 am
Lovely post.
December 19th, 2010 at 11:26 am
Such a beautiful post, such a beautiful image. I love that you had what I like to think of as a “growing” year, a year that’s like summer when you can just soak in all the hard work and healing of past illnesses/injuries/calamities. And what’s even better is that you can appreciate it — I know many who have become so accustomed to chaos that they manufacture it when it’s not present in their lives. We need these peaceful times to, as you said, prepare for whatever battle may come.
I am going to bookmark this post for good and bad days alike. π
December 19th, 2010 at 11:52 am
Thank you. I needed that.
December 19th, 2010 at 11:53 am
lovely post. hopped over from Facebook.
December 19th, 2010 at 12:16 pm
Beautifully written. I am glad you had a good year. I wish you the same for the new year.
December 19th, 2010 at 12:23 pm
breathtaking. exudes truth and beauty. thank you!
and hey, you went out for new year’s eve? this confuses my understanding of your hermitage π
December 19th, 2010 at 12:50 pm
Reading you feels like a warm down comforter next to a burning fire. Thank you.
December 19th, 2010 at 12:52 pm
you are making me rethink hope, although your hope is not a passive being, come to think of it. it is opening that door.
December 19th, 2010 at 1:00 pm
This is very wise, and good Sunday afternoon reading. I even got to push your metaphor a little farther than you intended, as I once almost drove right into a cow on a road at night.
Wishing you so much good in 2011.
December 19th, 2010 at 1:08 pm
Another wonderful post, which I completely agree with but could not have expressed it so beautifully. Thank you.
December 19th, 2010 at 1:10 pm
I love that you’ve still put together a beautiful post even though you don’t have a direct answer to the prompt. π
December 19th, 2010 at 1:11 pm
So inspiring. Thank-you for your beautiful words!!!
December 19th, 2010 at 1:33 pm
Thank you. Great post.
December 19th, 2010 at 1:44 pm
What I love about this is the flow of movement through your year. And it makes me think that that’s exactly what healing is, when there’s flow and ease and movement. That illness is where flow stops, and healing is when things can get flowing again.
Many blessings for your 2010 of flow. May 2011 flow well, too.
December 19th, 2010 at 2:03 pm
Letting new things walk in — and adapting to an ever-changing life. Now those are two big inspiring thoughts. Thanks for them.
December 19th, 2010 at 2:10 pm
Yeah, Life’s been laughing at me and my plans for a long time now. Here’s to hope and open doors!
December 19th, 2010 at 2:33 pm
this is a day i needed your lovely, spot-on words of wisdom. a bump in the road yesterday, some plans changed, but the door, my door, is open. life will go on and i look so forward to seeing you soon.
xo
December 19th, 2010 at 2:49 pm
Oh child. This is a lovely moment, this reading you gave me. Hugs.
December 19th, 2010 at 3:29 pm
Wonderful, inspiring post! I think I might write the last 6 lines or so into my 2011 diary so I can read and remember them throughout the year…
December 19th, 2010 at 4:44 pm
You’ve inspired me to leave my door wide open in 2011! Thank you for always sharing your thoughtful, wise, considered words:)
December 19th, 2010 at 4:52 pm
What a beautiful, unique perspective on today’s prompt.
December 19th, 2010 at 5:50 pm
“Five years ago, I would have taken a year like this for granted and gone out to celebrate on New Yearβs Eve expecting another one just like it.”
My sentiments exactly.
December 19th, 2010 at 5:52 pm
Beautiful as you are π
December 19th, 2010 at 5:57 pm
I’m so glad this has been a better year for you. Wishing you all good things as we head on in to 2011.
December 20th, 2010 at 12:16 am
written so well..love the metaphor .. doors mean so much…
December 20th, 2010 at 12:46 am
“Oh, we pretend we do sometimes, we make plans and set goals and unfurl long lists with things we have to do along the way to get there. There. To where we think we are going.
Only life has a way of laughing at those plans. Of throwing herds of cattle and oil slicks and thunderstorms and a whole host of other obstacles in our way. Things that alter our plans, minute by minute.”
You just described my 2010. Beautifully as always.
December 20th, 2010 at 12:51 am
your writing here always makes me stop; this one particularly thinking about how we never know what’s coming and just have to deal with it the best we can, when it does happen. there is something inevitable about it…something that gives me nightmares sometimes, something that i know makes me more anxious (i have a tendency to be a bit of a fatalist)…i worry. but we do adapt and we do survive most things, learn to live with other things. like you, mine hasn’t been a year of healing…not this year, but i think i’ve been treading water for most of it – varying reasons behind that – but i want to change that next year for sure!!
December 20th, 2010 at 1:07 am
“And so, we adapt. We stop and wait for the cows to pass. We pull ourselves back out of the ditch we ended up in. We sit there and watch the tree that got struck by lighting burn, and we weep. We go on. That is life. That is healing.”
So true! And beautifully written.
Jeanine
December 22nd, 2010 at 1:19 pm
Yes. Yes, yes, yes. That is *exactly* what hope does, what healing is. Oh my.