In which I find wisdom and solace in an unusual place.

Lately, as I have been slogging through a slough of illness, grief, stress, and worry, I have been wondering what on earth my life is going to look like when I finally shake off the worst of this flare. What will I do when my body gains more strength, and when I get the most pressing of my aunt’s affairs in order? I cannot go back to being the Marya I was in 2020 who hiked, danced, ran, worked, and taught; the Marya who socialized with friends, went out to restaurants, plays, and music events. That life has been gone for so long that that if feels like a dream.

   I am a realist enough to know that I cannot turn back the clock even if I wanted to because I have experienced and learned so much in these past six years. I have changed. Even if, by some miracle, my illness suddenly vanished, I could not go back to being the person I was.

   Being chronically ill for so long changes you. Losing so much changes you. On top of that the arrival of my aunt Martha in my life changed me. Helping and taking care of her taught me so much about myself and what I am capable of. Her story and presence had a big impact on me. Though having her in my life was sometimes very hard, I got so much out of the experience, and I don’t regret my decision to ‘adopt’ her for one minute. 

   Since I got sick I have spent so much time looking back at what was, what I have lost. I have mourned the life that was full of activities that I loved to do, and the times that I spent with people whom I treasured. It is not a healthy way to live; always looking back. I knew that, and yet I was ‘stuck.’

   This week I started to watch the TV series Starfleet Academy. Yes, I am a Star Trek and Star Wars fan and I am proud of it! The series has not received good reviews on the whole, and will not be renewed after the release of season two next year, but I really liked season one. Some of the lessons that the academy cadets learned were very relevant to my situation. After a traumatizing experience one of the young cadets tells her friend:

 “You’re just on your way to your next you.” 

The young lady has to learn how to live with a new version of herself and look forwards. Instead of thinking that she is broken, she needs to see that she has to start over, and starting over is not a move backwards. Instead, it is a move sideways.

  At one point in the narrative one of the teachers at the academy shares a famous quote with her students:

“How’s that saying go? It’s not the weight that breaks you, but how you carry the load." 

How true this is. Life is going to place burdens on our shoulders. What matters is not what they are but how we respond to them.

   Then I remembered something that Saru, a character in Star Trek Discovery, said:

“Enduring something no one thought possible can be transformative. Perhaps, perhaps, in feeling less like you were, you are more like who you are meant to become.”

   This idea has been sitting with me now for a few days. It is very thought provoking. Maybe the experiences of the last six years have been my teachers and not just my burdens. I know that I now have a new appreciation for the beauty that can be found in the mundane. I am more patient and a better listener. I have learned to be more aware of the fact that many people carry hidden, painful, burdens that they live with in silence. This last ‘lesson’ has taught me to treat people with more grace and less judgment. I have learned that even when I am thrown into the deep end of a pool that is alien to me, I can figure out how to swim. I have learned how incredibly rewarding it is to care for someone, a complete stranger, and how easy it is grow to love that person deeply.

   So now I will move forward with these new teachings to guide me, and I think I will be all the better for it. I will be able to gather up some of the threads of my old life that are dear to me. Others I will quietly let go of. I now know that I can be a musician again. It will take time to get my voice back, and to retrain my hands to play my instruments, but that is okay. The other day I took a brisk walk through the park, the first I have been able to take in months. Hopefully, in the not too distant future, I will get strong enough to hike on my beloved trails.

   When by body allows, I will work on the farm and house, and I will start rebuilding a social life for myself. And when the fatigue reels me in, but I am not so far gone that I have to retire to the sofa? Well, then I will write. I have to write. I will find the right voice and tone for this blog; one that my readers will enjoy and that I find rewarding. There is also a book that has been waiting in the wings, patiently (most of the time) waiting to be written. I know what form it is going to take, and some ideas have been jotted down in a notebook.

   I have a lot of healing to do and I will have to step forward with great care because like it or not, I am frail and cannot “damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead” the moment I feel a little better. Instead I will inch up my hill, carefully, pausing often, and I will do so looking forward and up instead of backwards, But, and this is a big but, I have a plan. It may sound like a small plan, but it feel like a very big one from where I am sitting.