Yesterday I reread the post I wrote to close out 2010. In it, I described wrapping up a particularly difficult year along with my hopes for 2011. I didn’t have to read past the first paragraph to see that 2010 was a relative cakewalk when compared with 2011: the “moratorium on hospital visits for family members” fell quickly by the wayside and my dream of “parenthood or bust” went unfilled. As years go, this past one packed a whallop.
A couple months ago I was talking with a woman who has helped me through many a cloudy day. I prattled on about my hopes for smoother sailing and brighter days ahead, how I feel envy towards those for whom life seems to come so easy. And this is what she said to me:
There is a certain poignancy to be found in hardship and loss.
Her words ring true. If I allow myself to look more closely at what I think I’ve lost, I can often find so much that I’ve gained,even a bit beauty in the pain. I’ve felt deep happiness on the heels of great sadness and some of my life’s most meaningful discoveries have followed days where I stared straight into the abyss.
Then today, another friend wrote to remind me that in this life we don’t so much get over things as through them. Each experience is woven into the fabric of our lives, more like a tapestry than a scrapbook. Her words are wise.
I met both of these women when I was well into my forties and I am grateful for their presence. I am grateful, too, that I found Big Papa, and grateful that my journey, circuitous and tumultuous though it has been, has led me to people, places and experiences that have enriched my life immeasurably. Yet I acknowledge that without loss or hardship, I might never have sought out Anne, gotten to know Sherri or met Big Papa. Life is ironic.
When we sit back and take stock at the end of the year, when we make our resolutions, the focus is almost always: out with the old, in with the new, goodbye to unpleasant memories from the year that’s passed and hello to the hopes and dreams for the year ahead. Why do we hold tight to the belief that we can will ourselves into a life without imperfection, without hurt, without loss? And why do we want to?
Therein lies the error of our ways, or at least mine. For the past few years, I’ve wished for the same thing: no mishaps, no calamities, no miscommunication, no sickness, no death, no bad news—please let nothing go wrong. And every year, I am sorely disappointed.
That’s why my resolution this year is to take a second look whenever I think the glass is half-full. Just like the sea. When the tide is out, you never know what treasures might still be found in shallow water.
Because I know things will happen to me in 2012 that I’m not going to like. Some days won’t be pretty and I’m guaranteed to experience heartache. Someone I care about might die and chances are, for one reason or another, I’ll be seeing the inside on the emergency room on at least one occasion. I know I may not find a silver lining in every cloud. But I’d like to see what happens if I try.
So here’s to looking at you, 2011: to all the lessons learned, the hard-won insights, the character lines etched on my face and in my soul. Though I may have dragged myself through some of the past 12 months kicking and screaming, I know I’ve come out on the other side more resilient, with a deeper appreciation for the blessings in my life.
As for 2012? Bring it on, I say. Bring it on!
Take this silver lining
Keep it in your own
Sweet head
And shine it when the night is
Burning red
Shine it in the twilight
Shine it on the cold, cold ground
Shine it till these walls
Come tumbling down
We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope now
Can you tell me why
Time after time they drag you down
Down in the darkest deep
Fools and their madness all around
Know that the light don’t sleep
Step into the silence
Take it in your own
Two hands
And sprinkle it like diamonds
All across these lands
Blaze it in the morning
Wear it like an iron skin
Only things worth living for are
Innocence and magic, amen
We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope now
Can you tell me why
Time after time they drag you down
Down in the darkest deep
Fools and their madness all around
Know that the light don’t sleep
We were born with our eyes wide open
So alive with wild hope now
Can you tell me why
Time after time they drag you down
Down in the talk so cheap
Fools and their madness all around
Know that the light don’t sleep
Know that the light don’t sleep
Time after time
They drag you down
Down in the darkness deep
Fools in their madness all around
Know that the light don’t sleep
Know that the light don’t sleep
Bonnie Raitt, Silver Lining