This blog is definitely one of those where I need to write my way into wherever it is that I need to go.  It’s been a long, long few weeks – mostly in radio silence here, I know!  Before winging off to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, I wrote a lot about being present – staying in the here and now.  And, as I went into and through my trip, I talked about my feelings of being new and small in the world.  I came back and felt wonderful.  Ready to be wherever I was and pour myself into a “new norm.” Ready to balance.  Ready to enjoy.  Ready to engage -with home and family, with friends, with choirs, with my creative work.  ENGAGE!

I had less than a week of that and was just warming up to it all…then…sick.  Really sick!  Flu turned into respiratory infection that put me totally out of commission for more than two weeks now.  At first, I just accepted it.  Had no choice physically – it was very clear that I wasn’t going to be able to do anything.  I just made back-up arrangements for the choirs and cancelled everything else.  Nicole caught it a few days after me and, for the first weekend at home, we had this odd mix of being miserably sick and really enjoying being down and out together.  Then came the second week – also clear that I had to keep canceling everything.  But now I started to turn in on myself and fight to keep my “life is good” perspective that I’ve spent so much time uncovering!

I’ve been struggling with a concept that I have only been able to grasp a couple of times.  As I’ve been out sick – and, in part, even as I’ve gone through these many months of not being the physical being that I am used to – I have had to reconcile with not being capable.  Sometimes, that translates to me that what has made me “special” recently is the struggle that I am going through.  It used to be, I believed, that what made me special was my energy and my ability.  One is all negative and the other all positive.  Those cursed black and whites.

In the last two weeks, I have been ably replaced at my jobs and yet reassured that I was missed and deeply cared for.  Special AND replaceable.

Over the last 18 months, I have learned in HUGE ways both how loved and treasured I am AND how fallible and imperfect I am.  And how this is an utterly normal experience.  Even normal in its abnormalcy.  People everywhere have challenges and complications.  People make mistakes.  People have unexplained things happen to their bodies.  People have ups and downs.  Good moments and regrettable moments.  And people do extraordinary things.  Things that have impact and touch others.  And there are billions of us.  Here and now, not to mention all that have gone before and all that come after.

I go back to the philosophical concept of wonderment.  Getting that overwhelming perspective on reality – how amazing it is and each of us in it.  How small and fleeting each moment is and, indeed, our whole lives.  We and our actions are just specks of dust.  (That’s the “nothing” way to look at it.) And each speck is also incredibly unique, impactful, capable of meaningful and hugely worthwhile lives.

It seems to me, right now, that I used to live an “everything” life.  A golden child.  So confident.  I could make good with everything I set my mind to and, as I’ve mentioned, if I couldn’t, then I didn’t set my mind to it and it just slipped out of sight.  I really never felt that I lived arrogantly, but it sure seems that way in hindsight.  Maybe the better descriptor is ignorantly.  We don’t know what we don’t know until we know what we didn’t know. right?  I’m pretty sure the common term for that is “growing up.”

Now…in my new reality…I think that embracing the middle is the most genuine way to live.  Following strengths AND acknowledging weaknesses.  Having highs AND lows, special days and normal days.  But for me to reach this middle, I’m first experiencing a sense of loss from the feeling that everything is special and I have it all figured out.  It’s a loss of confidence.  As I’ve been flailing about, and, intensely in these two weeks of isolation, as I’ve been even more incapable – I’ve been desperate for that sense of leading a special life.  Having each interaction with every person be extraordinary and meaningful.  Unwilling to accept everyday, “normal” moments, let alone sick moment!  When those normal days are happening (and, as I’m sure you all know better than me – they happen with GREAT frequency!!), they have fed my feeling of loss and depression.

Where I want to get to – what my blog about expecting reality was trying to crack into – is that living in the middle allows for normal and special to coexist.  Low moments help us treasure the highs.  Normal moments are both places to settle and places to feel grateful for the normal that I have to settle into.  Not moments to chafe against.  Moments to relax into and breathe easy.  I have been filling them with worry and trying.  Even this crazy “trying to relax!”

Living an “everything” life is exhausting.  It’s unrealistic and, eventually, it would sap the life right out of me!  It’s also something that I think we humans try to do when we are younger.  Living a “nothing” life is a rabbit hole that we can create for ourselves.  It’s only true if we live our lives as though they, and us, are meaningless and small.  Between everything and nothing.  Well, that’s real life – for everyone!  Seeing that, embracing it and really, consciously living it – that’s the trick.  That’s where all the meaning lies.

I’ve been on a kick of real-life movies lately.  And, not surprisingly, quite cynical and uninterested in fantasy stories and games.  Movies where you see the decisions and the people and the moments and how they come together in each unique situation – far more fascinating than fiction!  “Lincoln” is a great example.  Seeing the real man behind the speeches.  And I just finished watching “A Late Quartet” – which I bawled at in the end.  “The Perks of Being a Wallflower,”  “Milk,”  “The Pursuit of Happyness” – stories of real people and how they navigate the ups and downs of real lives.  All of a sudden, these are the stories that I want to watch.  And this is the story that I want to live.

Once again, though, I have to peel back more layers to get there.  Get more perspective.  Make more adjustments.  Perhaps I should consider that this is also commonly known as “growing” and it’s something that I should consider as normal life?  Maybe when we stop adjusting, that’s when life ends?  Hmm….I’ll have to think about that.  I’m sure it’s not as exhausting as it sounds right now!