Friday, February 17, 2017

Disruption and every day life

I've been thinking a lot lately about how to continue every day living when life seems terribly disrupted. When Kevin was sick, everyday life became something new. It was a routine that involved the hospital, doctors, and taking care of him, but it still had a kind of every-day-ness to it. There was still routine even as it was a new and very difficult pattern.

After he died I found it very difficult to re-establish some sense of every-day-ness. How could I do the dishes? My beloved was dead. What did it matter if I worked? The world was so out of balance, so unrecognizable, what difference could my work make. What point was there in my voice when his voice was gone? I felt as though the world within which I was living was so alien and unwelcoming that there was little point in engaging in the day-to-day acts of everyday life. This feeling persisted for some time and it still rises up occasionally.

I am encountering some of that same sense now, though not to the same degree. It's been triggered by changes in the American political landscape that violate my sense of this country as being one dedicated to helping others. I know, my politics may not agree with yours and you may wildly disagree with the prior comment, but stick with me here for just a few sentences more. I promise, this isn't a political post to any great degree, beyond the fact that the world has again changed dramatically and I feel displaced.

It has sometimes been challenging, finding my rhythm for work and other everyday activities, in this rapidly changing landscape. What is the point of my work, my belief in the importance of listening and the value of sharing stories, when the world is consumed with shouting and disagreement? Some days it's been very hard to work or do other every day things.

What I discovered, both after Kevin's death and am rediscovering now, is that the every-day-ness is part of what kept me alive, even as my beloved had died, even as my values are being challenged. It is my belief in the value of listening and stories that keeps me working. It is the every day tasks, like washing the dishes or making the bed, that help me retain some sense of control over my own life and so makes me more able to act in all kinds of ways, big and small.

I remind myself over and over again that life will be disrupted in ways big and small. I will stub my toe and the flash of pain briefly disrupts my thoughts. My beloved will die and my entire life will change. The world will change in ways I wasn't expecting and I will be forced to find ways to adapt. Disruption is inevitable. The thing I can manage is my own reaction to it. Even when I feel as though all is hopeless, the small acts of compassion or action remind me that I am still here. I am still alive. I still have a voice. And I can choose what to do next.

(c)2017 Laura S. Packer Creative Commons License

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True Stories, Honest Lies by Laura S. Packer is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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