I want to be happy. I want the people I love to be okay. I want the work to be meaningful, and the things I’ve worked hard for to work out.
When something goes sideways, I can still catch myself thinking: I did my part. Why is this still so hard?
I think doing my part should somehow protect me from the difficult parts. I know better, but I’m hopeful and human.
I know this all too well. Recently, I needed to remind myself that I can feel great joy and great loss at the same F-ing time. Did I like it? NO.
I wanted to enjoy the beautiful things happening in my life without feeling the ache of a loss. But both were there. In the middle of it, I was learning to value myself. To be more vocal about what I need. It hurt. I was finally saying things I’d been keeping to myself.
Some days I feel grounded. Some days the sadness catches me off guard. Neither cancels the other.
Feeling ALIVE doesn’t mean everything is rainbows and butterflies. It’s realizing we can feel so many things at once.
We can be happy AND sad.
We can feel loss AND joy.
We can love the life we have AND want something more.
One feeling doesn’t cancel the other.
The joy doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten what you lost. The sadness doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful for what remains.
I was waiting for the sadness to go away before letting myself fully enjoy what was good. As though I had to finish feeling one thing before I could feel another.
I catch myself doing this in other ways, too.
When I feel confident, I’ll ask for what I want.
When things settle down, I’ll make time for me.
When I’m over what happened, I’ll begin again.
I have to remind myself that I don’t have to feel better before I decide what comes next. I can still be sad AND enjoy dinner with people I love. I can feel unsure AND ask for what I need. I can be hurt AND decide how I want to respond.
That’s what living in the AND is helping me practice.
Maybe you’re exhausted by your work. Then someone sends you a thank-you, and you remember why you care so much. You’re still tired, but you’re glad you made a difference.
I also know that waiting to feel ‘better,’ ‘stronger,’ or more ‘confident’ is not a requirement for moving forward, making the choice, or living the life I want.
Living in the AND is recognizing that both things can be true and happening at the same time.
It’s how we move forward, how we choose to respond and lead ourselves from there, that matters.
You can be hurt by something or someone and still have a say in what happens next. Or, you can have a difficult morning without deciding it tells the story of your whole life.
Although I wish for things to always go smoothly, we aren’t promised a life that stays on the rails.
This week, listen for where you’re making yourself choose.
Happy or sad. Grateful or wanting more. Afraid or ready.
Then try replacing "or" with "and."
Finish this sentence:
“I am feeling __________, AND I can __________.”
Make the second part small enough to do today.
Ask for support. Keep the dinner plans. Let yourself laugh without needing what's pulling you down to disappear first.
You don’t have to feel better before you take that step
What have you been putting on hold until you feel differently?
Old friends are the best medicine
Here's a poem I wrote to celebrate my six-year AML diagnosis anniversary.
Alive
Alive runs through my veins
Alive is life reunited
Alive dances
Alive feels
Alive bounces
Alive is deeply grateful
Alive creates opportunities
Alive laughs out loud
Alive leads from the heart, not the messy mind
Alive becomes extraordinary
Alive manifests who she is
Alive is reawakening to possibility
Alive doesn’t know regret
Alive releases personal suffering
Alive conquers deathbed treatment
Alive is deeply knowing heartbreak
Alive is the hands on my back with the energy to push through fear
Alive is a runway calling me to take off
Alive is self-aware
Alive doesn’t wait for work to get done or to feel something to feel alive
