I confess: I have
been stuck in a rut.
Having Cystic Fibrosis, this often happens when I get sick. My body can take a long time to regain strength - sometimes weeks, a month, maybe two or more. But I have noticed lately that my mind and spirit are even slower to recharge. Coming out of a two-month bout of illness, my physical energy is thankfully increasing (though slowly). But my spirit is at a standstill. Stuck between surviving and thriving.
In my most frustrating moments, I feel as though I am an animal: a free bird caged by her dependence, a dog who cannot take a step without someone toting her leash. Like a creature kept inside, breathing in the steely air and soaking up the neon sun.
Having Cystic Fibrosis, this often happens when I get sick. My body can take a long time to regain strength - sometimes weeks, a month, maybe two or more. But I have noticed lately that my mind and spirit are even slower to recharge. Coming out of a two-month bout of illness, my physical energy is thankfully increasing (though slowly). But my spirit is at a standstill. Stuck between surviving and thriving.
In my most frustrating moments, I feel as though I am an animal: a free bird caged by her dependence, a dog who cannot take a step without someone toting her leash. Like a creature kept inside, breathing in the steely air and soaking up the neon sun.
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| (Photo by RoseAlma) |
Then it occurred to me: creatures live in the wild.
Even if only for a moment. Even if draped in oxygen tubes. Creatures need to breathe the natural air. Creatures need to see the open sky. It teaches their heart to open.
So I wasted no time. Stepping outside, on our front porch: I pulled my two green oxygen tubes and slowly walked myself right out that front door, envisioning the big white wicker chair just beyond. On its cushion was a cute little yellow leaf, blown from a nearby tree. I picked it up gently and sat. Pulled my legs to my chest and cozied up. My eyes flew upward, taking in the beautiful blue sky smeared with white fluffy cloud. Wind blowing through the turning trees, bare branches dancing in the distance, leaves all over the yard.
So much beauty.
And as the feeling filled my heart, I realized my spirit was lifted.
I’m a person of nature. Being close to it brings me home in a way nothing else can. And no matter how troubled I have felt in the past, taking a moment in nature has always brought me back to my center and to humanity. But when you are sick, you often live your life from the inside looking out. And when every move is a challenge and every breath is a pain, nature can seem so far away. And I let it stay that way.
Even if only for a moment. Even if draped in oxygen tubes. Creatures need to breathe the natural air. Creatures need to see the open sky. It teaches their heart to open.
So I wasted no time. Stepping outside, on our front porch: I pulled my two green oxygen tubes and slowly walked myself right out that front door, envisioning the big white wicker chair just beyond. On its cushion was a cute little yellow leaf, blown from a nearby tree. I picked it up gently and sat. Pulled my legs to my chest and cozied up. My eyes flew upward, taking in the beautiful blue sky smeared with white fluffy cloud. Wind blowing through the turning trees, bare branches dancing in the distance, leaves all over the yard.
So much beauty.
And as the feeling filled my heart, I realized my spirit was lifted.
I’m a person of nature. Being close to it brings me home in a way nothing else can. And no matter how troubled I have felt in the past, taking a moment in nature has always brought me back to my center and to humanity. But when you are sick, you often live your life from the inside looking out. And when every move is a challenge and every breath is a pain, nature can seem so far away. And I let it stay that way.
It is
easy to lose touch with the things that make you come alive. To slip into the
gap of routine and monotony because it seems
easier. But really we are making the journey harder. And we are robbing
ourselves of all of its beauty along the way.
So today, this moment, I was choosing to change.
So today, this moment, I was choosing to change.
Choosing to soak up the light and let the outside in.
I had been in such a rut because I had been going against my natural instincts. Denying a basic necessity for my mind, body, and spirit. And now I have to make a conscious effort to change for the better.
Seek out the beauty. It’s always waiting.
We just have to cross the threshold, and behold it.
It all was suddenly so clear as I sat there in the wicker chair, my heart overflowing with love. And I looked down in my hand, at the little yellow leaf twirling between my fingers. It had been waiting for me. A token for my beautiful journey. And I wondered if it knew in the spring when it bloomed that it would find its way to my hand.
