Just in the amount of time it takes to say “my life changed,” it did. Similar to our pandemic. Like you, and most of the world, I am presently living in a surreal way. Although, I am no stranger to a narrowed version of life. I am a survivor of suffering. Familiarity of a restricted lifestyle is part of my past. Consequently, I understand the blackness of loss, also known as grief:
The dirt below me, once dark and rich from valuable compost, has been reduced to dust and is void of nutrients. As I try to hold the rich, dark soil in my bare hands it turns into dust slipping through my fingers.
My perceived safety net, that has held me for so long, starts to unravel leaving an opening into the unknown.
I feel like I have been picked up in the air, and without warning, I am caught up in a funnel cloud of uncertainty. Finally, I am thrust out and land abruptly in the dust. My life as I know it has been ripped away from me…
Life as a single parent taught me about a narrowed version of life. My definition goes something like this:
Experiencing multiple losses: spouse, marriage vows, extended family relationships, career, financial security, transportation, belongings, home, lifestyle, hobbies, and uprooting one’s location. All of these things that were part of my life were gone. Disappeared beyond my control.
As a result, all this forced me to look inward rather than outward. The smaller my external world got, the more inward I went. I did not have a choice. It left me wondering how my life would ever be put back together again from such dust.
In my case, my mom told me, “You rebuild one day at a time. You also have faith that it will all be okay.”
“One day at a time”
Over time, I learned all I really had was today. I had “a day” to develop a vision for a better tomorrow by planting seeds.
I had “a day,” as well, to muster up all of my remaining strength to learn endurance for the following days.
And, ultimately, “a day” to decide what was truly important in my narrowed version of life.
But within my day, amidst all of the dust, I needed help rebuilding my life. My situation required more than what I was humanly capable of.
And, that is where faith arose and blossomed.
Open My Eyes
In turn, a narrowed existence gave me the opportunity to open my eyes to “life” and see it for what it really was. Without a doubt, the shrinking of my life and the stripping of outward distractions forced inward reflection so I could grasp:
Life, so beautiful
Photography Credits: Photo by Євгенія Височина on Unsplash - Girl with hat looking at sea Photo by Leo Foureaux on Unsplash - Dark trellis, light at end of tunnel Photo by Meghan Schiereck on Unsplash - Hand with grains of sand Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash - Narrow pathway in woods Photo by Esteban Castle on Unsplash - Field of purple flowers Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash - Seedlings Photo by loli Clement on Unsplash - Lady holding teacup Photo by Jude Beck on Unsplash - Toddler’s hands in prayer Photo by Rikako Matsuoka on Unsplash - Stairs between trees/sunlight Photo by Anton Darius on Unsplash - Lilac with stream of sunlight Photo by Dmitry Tulupov on Unsplash - Close up of lilac flower Photo by Danielle MacInnes on Unsplash - Baby's feet covered in sand